Kiddie Ambien
Posted by admin | Filed under Motherhood, Preschoolers, parenting, sleep
I know what you’re thinking: WHAT? WHERE? Do I need a prescription??? If so, can I use my meth lab to make some?
Relax. It’s Children’s Benadryl. God, I love that shit.
Anyone who has a three-year-old will agree with me, I promise. Because bedtime has become a horrible, terrible, drawn-out nightmare that won’t end, even when I go to bed myself. I have never seen a human being fight sleep so vehemently, so desperately. It’s one of God’s little jokes: Just when you get to an age where sleep is this heavenly escape from the daily grind, you have a baby. And that baby sleeps poorly at first, then really well, then… becomes a three-year-old, this demonic, sleepless, talking thing that won’t shut up. Ever. I’ve had to shut the door while Nora was mid-sentence, talking about every single thing she has ever learned in her short life. It’s constant, nonsensical, and will drive you mad if you listen to it long enough.
During the day, I think Nora’s motor mouth is cute. It’s adorable. Most of the time. Her voice is high-pitched and chipmunk-like, as is her cherubic face. It only really gets to me when it cuts into my downtime. If she is still blabbing past eight at night, I stop thinking it’s cute. Because that is an almost-solid 13 hours of hearing about ballerinas, swimming pools, hearts, butterflies, princesses, unicorns and Wow Wow Wubbzy.
And THEN begins the struggle to keep Nora in bed long enough to fall asleep. Every five minutes, she’s calling. “Mommy, I need to go potty.” (She doesn’t). “Mommy, I need my bunny. The one with the pink nose.” (She knows damn well we haven’t seen that thing in months).
“Mommy, I need socks, my feet are cold.”
“Mommy, my fan isn’t on.”
“Mommy, I’m thirsty. And hungry.”
“Mommy, there’s a bat in my room with red eyes.” (This one is particularly hard to deal with, because I’ve watched too many horror flicks and am far too impressionable. What if there IS a bat with red eyes in there? Fuck, I’m sleeping with the lights on).
And God forbid TH and I go to bed before she’s asleep. She sees that living room light go off and goes nuts. And wakes up Ava. And then we’re all fucked.
So night after night, we increasingly become overtired, because no one is sleeping, not me, not Nora, not TH. (I should give TH major props here, because he is the one who deals with Nora in the middle of the night. TH, you are an amazing father. And there’s no punch line… You’re just an amazing father).
Enter Baby Ambien. I was at the end of my rope, and so I called Nora’s pediatrician, who is this hip, young mom herself, and begged her to help me. She told me to buy some Children’s Benadryl and give it to Nora for a few nights, until she got caught up on her sleep. I didn’t think it would work. The first night, I gave her the appropriate dose and tucked her in as she rambled on and on and on about her friends, her favorite TV shows, what she was going to say tomorrow… And then started to slur her words, her eyelids slowly dragging shut. I watched, a big smile on my face and waving bye-bye, as she tried to fight off the effects of the Benadryl… to no avail. She was in La-La Land in under ten minutes.
And slept through the whole night.
Oh, shit.
So now, my question is this: how many is “a few” nights? Are we talking like five days? Two weeks? Until she’s ten?
I have to talk myself out of giving her the Bendryl 90% of the time. Because it truly is amazing: No Benadryl, up until way past MY bedtime and every two hours until morning, or Yes Benadryl, down at eight and asleep until seven – at a minimum.
I am a terrible person that I even think about knocking my kid out with drugs every night, I know. But seriously. Spend a week with Nora and you’ll be ready to give her bourbon, if that’s what it takes.
Fine: Rum. Yes, I’m obsessed with pirates, and would give her rum. Now shut up.
Tags: Ambien, Benadryl, Nora, sleep, talking, Wow Wow Wubbzy
