The Perfect Comforter
It's probably not very surprising that the boys have had trouble sleeping for the past couple of months. With all the changes in their lives and family structure, of course they're going to toss and turn a bit, have insecurities and nightmares, need extra snuggles in the wee hours. Completely understandable. But, from my point of view, it's exhausting as all get-out. Getting up a scrillion times a night when one of them calls - I thought I'd wiped my hands clean of that practice years ago when I Ferberized the crap out of them. My point is: the sleeping. It is a Problem.
I recently hit my local Bed, Bath and Beyond Human Endurance to re-stock some of the things I'd lost during asset division - specifically, winter bed linens. I got some nice fleece blankets for the boys' beds, some jersey sheets, and I picked up a couple of cold-weather comforters. I remember standing in the store laughing at the name of them - Wamsutta's Perfect Comforter, joking, "If this comforter was really perfect, it'd cause my kid to fall soundly asleep as soon as I tossed it over him and would keep him asleep until I chose to remove it." (Gabe had already escaped my clutches several times by that point, intent on returning to the aisle of bathroom supplies in order to collect every. single. soap. dish. in the store, so you have to imagine I made this joke with a certain tone of snarky desperation.) Anyway, into the cart went the Perfect Comforters (along with a few soap dishes that somehow found their way in - Gabe continues to maintain his innocence, the scamp.)
With the weather turning colder, yesterday I replaced the kids' warm-weather bedding with the cold-weather stuff, which means last night was the first night they both slept under their new Perfect Comforters. I tucked them in, said goodnight, and (lo and behold) didn't hear a peep out of them until they woke up this morning a little after 7. Not a peep. For the first time in months, both the boys slept soundly - without waking up a single time. Not even once. NOT ONCE! They didn't even change positions - I checked. They didn't even move all night!
Ergo, these really are The Perfect Comforters (tm).
Which means I now pray to Wamsutta, the Goddess Of Sleep. Oh, most kind and benevolent Wamsutta, I am but your humble servant. Whatever thou ask of me, I shall do with devotion and enthusiasm.
I recently hit my local Bed, Bath and Beyond Human Endurance to re-stock some of the things I'd lost during asset division - specifically, winter bed linens. I got some nice fleece blankets for the boys' beds, some jersey sheets, and I picked up a couple of cold-weather comforters. I remember standing in the store laughing at the name of them - Wamsutta's Perfect Comforter, joking, "If this comforter was really perfect, it'd cause my kid to fall soundly asleep as soon as I tossed it over him and would keep him asleep until I chose to remove it." (Gabe had already escaped my clutches several times by that point, intent on returning to the aisle of bathroom supplies in order to collect every. single. soap. dish. in the store, so you have to imagine I made this joke with a certain tone of snarky desperation.) Anyway, into the cart went the Perfect Comforters (along with a few soap dishes that somehow found their way in - Gabe continues to maintain his innocence, the scamp.)
With the weather turning colder, yesterday I replaced the kids' warm-weather bedding with the cold-weather stuff, which means last night was the first night they both slept under their new Perfect Comforters. I tucked them in, said goodnight, and (lo and behold) didn't hear a peep out of them until they woke up this morning a little after 7. Not a peep. For the first time in months, both the boys slept soundly - without waking up a single time. Not even once. NOT ONCE! They didn't even change positions - I checked. They didn't even move all night!
Ergo, these really are The Perfect Comforters (tm).
Which means I now pray to Wamsutta, the Goddess Of Sleep. Oh, most kind and benevolent Wamsutta, I am but your humble servant. Whatever thou ask of me, I shall do with devotion and enthusiasm.