That Run Over By A Truck Feeling (aka Sleep Deprivation)

The last time I wrote, I was excited after Dash had slept through the whole night on his own.  I hoped that perhaps we had finally turned a corner with him.  No more sleep deprivation!


That one glorious night of peaceful slumber has been followed by two (or three? I can’t count) miserable nights of wakefulness.

Apparently, that one full night of sleep was enough to fully charge his little battery and keep him going all week.  Despite lots of time running around outside and trips to the pool, Dash is not one bit tired.  It really defies logic.  How could a one year old spend two hours at the pool and splash park and then not sleep until 9pm?  Of course taking three kids to the pool makes Mommy tired.   But Dash?  NOPE.

I don’t know what’s waking him up. He doesn’t seem to be in pain, but his teeth are still coming in, so maybe he’s uncomfortable.  He basically just seems mad if he wakes up and I’m not there.  If I am there, he just reaches out and tries to pull my hair out of my head to comfort himself.  OUCH!

Last night, I had already given up on my bed and was laying on the floor of Dash’s room.  I had decided to pad the floor with a nice big down comforter, so I was “relatively” cozy there.  Then, sometime in the middle of the night I woke up (to my hair being pulled) and I really had to use the bathroom.  I waited until I thought he was back to sleep and tiptoed out of the room.  “MAMA?  MAMA!  MAAMAAAAAAA!!!”

For goodness sakes.

I tried to hurry up in the restroom and rush back to calm him before he could wake up the whole house.  “Dash, it’s okay, I’m right…”


I stepped on a truck (Rocky the Robot truck to be specific) and like a roller skate it went out from under me and I landed with my ribs on the side of the toddler bed.

Dash just stared at me in the dark as I laid on my face groaning.

EVERYTHING hurt.  I dragged my battered little self back to my floor bed.  “Dash, PLEASE, just go back to sleep.”  He did, laying his whole body on my pillow.  And so did I, with three inches of pillow to lay my throbbing head onto.  (Because the whole thing triggered a headache in addition to a rib ache, hand ache, and foot ache.)

This morning I am a bit sore, my foot has a nice ugly bruise on it.  I don’t think my ribs are broken, which is a plus.  I wish I could say “you should see the other guy”, but Rocky looks no worse for wear.  Stupid Rocky.

I had a lot of plans for today, but now here I am, back to shuffling around aimlessly, feeling like I’ve been run over by a truck.  (Though technically, I ran over the truck, not vice versa.)  I’m trying to type this while figuring out how to spell difficult words like “here” and “this”.  Getting that little taste of having energy and mental acuity again, only to have it quickly snatched away has been somewhat cruel.  Luckily, I don’t have the energy to be bitter about it.  Bitterness is way too exhausting.

This too shall pass.  Someday I will not suffer from chronic sleep deprivation.  Someday I will sleep in a bed again.  Someday I will be able to get up early and exercise instead of getting up at 8 and struggling to limp into the kitchen for coffee.  Someday I will be able to answer complex questions like “how are you?” and “what’s the date today?”

Someday my Dash will be a big boy.  So for now I will *try* and enjoy his snuggly toddler-ness.  And I will also make sure all trucks are cleared off the floor before bedtime.  Yup, definitely going to do that…  ey ey ey.

sleep deprivation gets worse when toys are left on the floor

Speak Your Mind