Parents, Stop Holding Your Breath for Your Kids to Sleep Through the Night. I Haven’t Slept in a Decade.

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Let me be clear: I’ve been a parent for a decade, and significant sleep has been a distant memory during this time. Sure, I manage a few hours here and there, but most mornings I wake up resembling a creature from a swamp or a character from a fairy tale gone wrong.

If beauty sleep is a necessity, then mothers are certainly at a loss. At this point, I’d be grateful for just a little sleep to restore my sanity—enough to remember to put on my shirt properly before heading to the store in a daze.

Why Are We So Eager for Our Little Ones to Sleep Through the Night?

Honestly, I hate to break it to the exhausted mother of a newborn who longs for even one uninterrupted night of sleep, but kids tend to disrupt almost everything. Well, almost everything. They certainly ruin sleep.

My children are 10, 8, and 5, and I still find myself waking up in disbelief on the rare occasions that I actually get a full night’s rest. A good night’s sleep as a parent is about as likely as dodging a stomach bug that’s making its rounds at the local school.

In retrospect, I may have inadvertently sabotaged my own sleep by teaching my kids to call out for me when they need something instead of getting out of bed. This has created little sleep-stealing monsters in my household. My intention was to avoid scenarios where they might declare “I feel sick” just as they’re about to vomit all over me, and to maintain my bedroom as an adult sanctuary rather than a place for midnight disturbances over minor issues like an itchy elbow.

Hope and Sleep Solutions

But we still hold onto hope. We’ve armed ourselves with noise machines, fans, and humidifiers in every room to muffle the sound of one another. We sprinkle lavender around and try to wind down with bedtime stories, baths, songs, and prayers. Hope is abundant, but so are the shattered dreams of achieving a good night’s sleep.

Typically, my nights consist of catnaps, and I’m growing increasingly frustrated. I had expected things would improve by now, but it feels like I’m trapped in a sleep-deprivation reality show, where I’m the weary character struggling to stay awake at a party.

The Reality of Nighttime Interruptions

In our home, sleep looks like a child waking up three times, moaning and thrashing loud enough to be heard through the walls, prompting me to rush in, only to discover they have a stuffy nose. Sleep deprivation manifests through various nighttime hiccups: bloody noses, bedwetting, and the ever-present “Mom, I need a tissue” for those stubborn boogers.

Nighttime interruptions also include requests for a new pillow or a blanket adjustment, just when I finally reach a deep sleep after days of exhaustion. The midnight hours are filled with kids talking in their sleep, needing comforting stuffed animals, or suddenly waking up needing a drink or expressing fear from a “weird noise” they heard.

Bad dreams are the ultimate sleep thief, and they seem to happen constantly. The other night, my 5-year-old woke me up simply because he “needed me.” Excuse me, little one, but your “need” can wait until a more reasonable hour, like 8 a.m. on a school day.

In our household, the sleep routine involves being summoned right before my alarm goes off, rendering any chance of returning to sleep impossible. Or, there’s the delightful surprise of waking up to an alarm that sounds like a bomb going off in your backyard.

Adjusting Our Expectations

Moms, it’s time to stop yearning for an unattainable reality. Yes, your adorable baby will eventually sleep through the night, only to throw curveballs like teething or random wake-ups for nighttime feedings, as if they are testing us for fun.

Surely, it must get better eventually. At this point, my sleep training for my children resembles less of swaddling and teaching self-soothing techniques, and more of reassuring them they won’t be eaten by imaginary monsters lurking under their beds.

I can only imagine that once they hit their teenage years and I struggle to wake them for school, I will look back on these sleepless nights fondly. But I doubt much sleep will come then either, what with curfews and all.

But that’s alright. After all, they say sleep is for the weak. If that’s true, then I’m undoubtedly the strongest woman alive.

Conclusion

In summary, parenting often leads to sleep deprivation, and we should adjust our expectations. While we hope for sleep, the reality is filled with disruptions that make restful nights a rarity.