Confession #12: Blame it on the Supermoon

“Don’t you blame it on the lame nap,
 Don’t blame it on the diaper rash,
 Don’t blame it on the terrible twos,
 Blame it on the Supermoon.”

We barely sleep Saturday night and not for any fun reason.  Our little girl decided to scream her head off at intervals inhibiting rem sleep all night long.  I’ll take this opportunity to remind folks just stopping by that we all sleep in the same bedroom.  City living. Na na na na na. Kyle did an extraordinary job of trying to calm down our night-time banshee, unfortunately to no avail.  She wanted to be in bed with us and if she didn’t get what she wanted, she was going to go nuts. 

We tried to wait her out but after it was clear she was not going to calm herself down, we headed out of the bedroom.  That always results in a dramatic increase in the decibel level emitting from our child. Then, thinking we are so rational, we begin to discuss what’s going on.  “Well,” I say, “She didn’t get a good nap in...”.  “Argh,”, Kyle says, “This wouldn’t be happening if we had a house.”  We give her sufficient time to make sure she’s back asleep and we head back in.

Now it’s egg shell time.  Arden is in a state where the slightest movement or sound wakes her up for more screaming so we don our invisible astronaut suits and attempt to move weightlessly back into bed.

We make it but can’t fall asleep.  It’s so hard to fall asleep without making any adjustments to get comfortable.  If I even smell Kyle thinking about turning over I silently yell at him.  You see, Arden is like Zool from Ghostbusters.  If you even think that she might wake up and start screaming again, she will. 

Just as I was telling myself, “clear your mind, clear your mind,” it just popped in there.  I couldn’t help it. I started to think about her waking up crying and sure enough, she stood up an started wailing.

By now it’s 1am and the Supermoon is having it’s maximum effect on all of us.  We leave the bedroom are now completely irrational.  Instead of turning into werewolves we turn into sailors letting every swearword we know rip off in true sleep deprived form. After 20 months of trying to cope in the middle of the night we still haven’t figure out a good way to do it.  We totally loose it at some point every time. I believe I take top prize this time by my declaring that I would, “get dressed and walk out the door,” if Kyle blew up the air mattress for me.  I should record a video of my 8am self (post-Americano when I am most completely with it) warning my 1am self that, “if you are watching this video you should go sit down and shut up!”

Thank you Supermoon. You are beautiful but if it's another 18 years until we meet again that's fine by me.