My Child the Torture Specialist

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Mr. Emmett John has a future in the military. Interrogating terrorists. His specialty will be in the field of using sleep deprivation. I become more convinced of this as time goes on. I didn’t realize how a kid could be a picky sleeper until Emmett John.

Because of his milk and soy allergies, if I have ANY milk or soy Emmett will wake up the next morning at 3 or 4am screaming. When I say ANY, I mean any. It’s taught me to check labels 5 and 6 times so I can avoid that early morning wake-up call. 

If he is stuffy, he will sleep fine (stuffy and all) until about 4am (see a pattern yet?) and then suddenly he will wake-up screaming because he’s stuffy. Now to me, he doesn’t sound any worse at 4am than he did when we went to bed at 10pm. But for some reason he seems unwilling to deal with it anymore after 4am. 

And then, there was last night. Mr. Emmett John wasn’t feeling good all day yesterday. However, when he was asleep is when he seemed the calmest and things were going pretty well for him. When he was awake, he was fussy and grumpy. You could just tell he was uncomfortable. So I figured when we went to bed for the night that he would sleep fairly well. Wrong. We went to bed at about 11pm. He was exhausted but wouldn’t sleep. (I should have known then something was hinky.) At about 12:30am he finally fell asleep on my shoulder so we went to bed. He woke up fussing and then all out screaming by 3am. So he and I went downstairs so that Daddy and Elliott Richard could keep sleeping. He screamed and thrashed and thrashed and screamed until about 4:30-ish. At that point, I gave him some gas drops and Tylenol because I had exhausted all other options. Those helped him to calm down enough to fall asleep for brief period of time so long as he was on my chest. So I built a little fortress around us on the couch and dozed off and on while he slept for the briefest of periods. For the rest of the night, he would sleep for a bit. Wake up screaming. Nurse for a moment. Sleep for a bit. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Now it is 9:30am. I hope you’ll excuse me if this post makes little to no sense; I am so beyond exhausted that I can’t even see exhausted anymore. And now I’m off to try and accomplish something…maybe I’ll wash some dishes. The laundry might be easier though. Or maybe I’ll just pass out on the couch. Yeah, that’s sounds like a better option.