Confessions of a Hallway – Sleepless Child Edition

If our hallways could talk they would have some pretty colourful stories. From the yelling and screaming, hysterical laughter, flying objects from catapulted footballs to poorly aimed iPhones (husband’s head generally being the target), they’ve seen it all. I imagine them going back and laughing with the roof and architraves, pinot in hand, getting a good chuckle out of the crazy people they house. No stories funnier or more entertaining than when the family introduces a sleepless child that for 3.5 years just won’t ‘go the fok to sleep’.

Let me start at the beginning. From the moment Axel, our little trouble maker, entered the world as a 4.5kg bubba (NB. unexpected coughs now result in wee, I’m just a coughing fit away from a tena pad), he was never interested in resting.

While he was still small he would sleep in the baby rocker and we would take turns sleeping on the couch, furiously rocking just the way he liked. Only pitfall with the manually operated baby rocker, when you fall asleep, the rocking stops, and the crying begins. As he out grew the rocker he entered the pram with the same rocking pattern, any thought of putting him into a cot would be duly met with screams of sheer terror heard around the block.

When Axe was 3 months we travelled to Fiji for our best friend’s wedding, I stupidly thought Axel would sleep on holiday due to the heat and exhausting pool swims and I would be free to enjoy myself. Oh how downright misguided I was. Whilst my friends partied all night, hubby as the ring leader, my darling, caring, considerate husband, I got to sit rocking the poltergeist all night long. Needless to say this ‘holiday’ is still a touchy subject in our household (and the walls have heard all about it).

As Axel grew and was placed in his cot, we trialled the old, climb over the railings quietly trick and try to sneak back over them as they drift off to sleep, the only problem being was that Axe never actually fell asleep for us to sneak out!!

We tried letting him cry it out, tried patting him to sleep, rocking him, driving him, walking him in the pram, singing to him, medicines, chiropractor’s, suffocating no wait I only imagined that one, keeping him up late, putting him to bed earlier…. And even if he went to sleep, he never stayed the fok asleep.

And the marital arguments, accusations and downright nasty comments that are hurled around like grenade’s between enemy’s in those wee hours of the night, when 2 people are at their utmost worst; frustrated, helpless and just fucking tired, are stuff you cannot script.

Brent: Stace it’s your turn I got up the last time.

Me: Last time, that was 2 fucking hours ago and the little fucker hasn’t been back to sleep since

Brent: But I was bloody up for the 4 hours prior to that

Me: I fucking hate you and I hope you die

Brent: Me too

So when Axe was 6 months old and averaging 3 hours of broken sleep per night, Masada’s (a Melbourne based sleep school) answering machine was left a message at 2am from some crazy hysterical lady pleading mercy. Axel started sleep school boot camp 3 weeks later..

That place, Masada, is literally like Disneyland for mums around Melbourne, it should be listed as a national treasure.

After 7 days at sleep school booty camp, Axel was sleeping 12 hours overnight and up to 5 hours a day. Our lives did a complete flip and we had our parenting A-Game back (did we ever have it?). Unbeknownst to us Axel was actually hibernating. Our belief was he was sleep-cured, but in actual fact he was simply storing up his sleep so that at his leisure, he never had to sleep again.

On a fateful night back in 2013 the hibernating beast awoke from his slumber and we are yet to get a consistent run of uninterrupted sleep since.

This time round however Axe was a bit older, so we had negotiation on our side. Unfortunately for us this boy is either, simple, stubborn or downright brilliant as no negotiating tactic in the world works.

In our endless attempts to get him to sleep we have closed his door and battled him for 30 minutes to keep  it closed, both hanging onto the door handle from either side. I have returned him to bed silently and walked out; one particular night I counted 300 silent, painstaking returns by midnight. I have purchased him gifts after consecutive nights sleep; I have taken away things, lights on, lights, off, heater on, heater off. It got so bad earlier this year that I locked the little bugger out of the house on our front step, 3am in the morning,  and refused to let him in until he committed to sleeping. He slept for 2 nights in a row, yippee…

Tonight my walls have witnessed a young boy pushing his mother to the brink as he avoids sleep time with every imaginable obstacle, I need to poo, I’m thirsty, and the old I just needed to tell you one more thing.

Axel if you get out of this bed 1 more time, I’m going to….? I’m literally out of threats!!!

Wish me luck as I enter another seemingly sleepless night, with jet-lag + detoxing from alcohol there is a fair chance our house will be a scene from The Hunger Games, only 1 tribute will survive…. It will be Axel…

Cheers, love and survival,

Stace xxoo