The Sleep Connection

He is just one of those little boys who sparkles when you say his name. He is filled with love for everyone who is around him. He loves your company more than anything else.

So, is he the perfect child? Oh, no. Let's start with the fact that Connor doesn't believe in naps. It is a test of wills, who can hold out longer, me or him. Amazingly, he seems to have a lengthy stamina. Example: I put him down for a nap at 2:15pm. It is 3:07pm, yet he has been awake for more than 15 minutes in his crib.

He doesn't sleep all night long. In fact, he seems to wait until Tom and I are ready to go to sleep and he cashes it in. Sleep doesn't seem to be part of his repertoire for some reason. (thanks a lot, Murphy genes!) I wonder as he gets older if he will finally regulate himself and learn to operate on a schedule that is agreeable for all parties involved. Or maybe if his teeth come in, he'll finally sleep. The thing is Connor will take a nap if he has some company. After my surgery this week, I didn't feel up to rocking in the chair, so I had Connor lay in bed next to me. We napped three times in one day. He slept like a charm. I stole a million glances at his pursed lips, his curled fist, his beautiful face. Most of all, I marveled that he was actually asleep for once.

Then I thought, no wonder he doesn't want to sleep in the crib. What a safe place to rest, close to Mommy, close to Daddy, everything he needs in one place. Am I spoiling this little one? I do not allow my boys to sleep night after night in our bed, we just will not do that. Once and a while, usually when they are really, really sick, we relent. Even then, we usually make them sleep in their regular spots. Then, I got to thinking.....

I remember when I was a child, being deathly afraid of sleeping in my own room. I would wait several hours after my bedtime, listening for my mom to finally turn out the lights and go to bed herself. After waiting the token five minutes or so, I would tiptoe out of bed, race past the bathroom (monsters) and go into her room, talk to her about something inane and crawl into her bed. She never put me back in my room, although I cannot imagine she was entirely happy about it all. I remember how comforting it was to finally be able to sleep and feel protected by her. She will tell me in the morning how many times I rolled out of bed, punched her in my sleep or stole the covers. I don't recall how long this period of sleeping in my mom's room lasted, but it wasn't just a night or two. I wonder now if she watched me while I slept. If she wondered if I was being spoiled. If she secretly wanted me to just sleep in my own bed. Or if she knew that I needed to be there near her in order to sleep without the fears.

Sure, my little one is far younger than I was at that time. But for me, those memories are filled with how much I needed my mother then. How desperate to get out, how alone I felt in that room.

Perhaps somewhere I know that my son needs me too, just to get over the fears and to not feel alone. To be able to sleep in peace knowing someone is watching over you. Maybe he holds the same feeling that I had as a child.

Well, I wasn't quite sure where this entry was heading, but I think it gave me more insight than I expected. I wanted to say how frustrated I was with Connor's sleeplessness. However, I ended up feeling more connected to him, even though I try to mold him into my own perfect world. He fits better than I thought.