Amber Dusick - Parenting Illustrated with Crappy Pictures

But this whole before-and-after series would be pointless if I didn’t mention the most monumental change of all. Before kids, I knew this change was inevitable and thought I was prepared for it. But this change was a rude awakening. All night long. Repeatedly.

Sleeping before I had kids:

It was simple. I slept.

This is what sleeping is like now, after having kids:

I don’t sleep. And now you can skip the next chapter because you already know what happens.

I really should write this chapter but I’m too tired. The end.

(Do you think I could get away with this? I’m not lazy. I’m succinct!)

All parents complain about the lack of sleep. Why? Because they all lack sleep.

Actually, babies do sleep. A lot. They just do it all wrong.

When Crappy Boy was a newborn, his days and nights were mixed up. This went on for weeks.

Our pediatrician suggested we try to keep him awake during the day to encourage him to sleep at night. Sounded logical. Babies do not give a shit about logic.

No matter what we did to show him that daytime was exciting, he slept. And then all night long he was ready to party:

I know you seasoned parents are squirming in your seats, yelling at me through these pages to, “Sleep when the baby sleeps!” Whatever. No moms ever do this with their first baby because they are too busy looking at the darn thing:

Why didn’t I sleep?!

Of course three years later, when Crappy Baby was born, I knew better. I most certainly was going to sleep when the baby slept. Except that I had Crappy Boy to take care of so that was actually impossible. In other words, that advice is lame. Stop giving that advice.

(You may have heard rumors that some babies sleep through the night right away. Just so you know, these are probably lies told by old people to make sure that people keep having babies. If you do have one of those sleeping babies, do not tell anyone! They’ll either be jealous or they won’t trust you. Or worse. See Crappy Law #41 in Chapter 10.)

Sleep is such a tiring problem (Ha! You see what I did there?) that there are a whole slew of products you can purchase to help alleviate it. It is a huge industry and probably grosses, like, a lot of money each year.

When Crappy Boy was three months old, he was very particular about where he would sleep. He’d be in a very, very deep sleep. So I’d gently, gently lay him down in the co-sleeper right next to our bed:

And he’d wake up. Every time.

The co-sleeper morphed into an overpriced nursing pillow holder. We also had a beautiful crib that he hated. It stored blankets really well. And the cats found it to be quite comfy. They were pretty pissed when we eventually sold it.

We bought swaddling blankets, thinking that they would trick him into thinking he was actually being held or something. The blankets resembled baby straightjackets, but he’d rip his way out of them in about ten seconds:

And he’d be extra pissed, like the Hulk busting out of his too-tight shirt.

And that was all we bought. Surprised? Well, we also had a white noise machine, soothing music, soothing lights, a swing and a hammock thing. But we didn’t purchase any of those. They were all given to us by other parents who had already found them to be useless.

The only thing that was actually effective at tricking my babies into sleeping was not something money could buy. It was me. Well, actually it was my milk-producing nipple pacifiers. But we’ll say it was me because that sounds cozy.

Then Crappy Baby came along and my not-sleeping habits changed again. Here’s what a typical night was like for a while.

We’d climb in bed at 9:00 p.m….

By 9:03 Crappy Papa was completely asleep.

I’d be nursing Crappy Baby and hadn’t even begun to think about sleeping yet. I’d lie there motionless, pretending to be calm and relaxed so he’d fall asleep.

I pretended to be sleeping but really I was going over the “to do” list or replaying conversations from earlier. Or I’d have pretend conversations that might happen in the future. On a good night he settled pretty fast.

Finally, around 10:00 p.m. he was asleep. Success! He rolled over and my body was my own for the first time all day. I pulled up the blankets a little. I closed my eyes for real. Started to relax and let go…

Until I heard a noise.

Becoming a mama gave me heightened spidey senses. A tiny noise a mile away woke me up like a mama bear, ready to protect her young.

My husband did not develop this quality with parenthood.

Crappy Boy entered. I thought he was asleep. He had no concept of being quiet while people are sleeping, so he barged in loudly asking for random shit. I had to jump out of bed and rush him out of the room so he didn’t wake the baby. This attempt was successful about 50 percent of the time. Let’s assume it was successful this night.

So I was in the hallway, hearing Crappy Boy’s demands and bargaining with him. Water, bathroom, covers on or off, etc. I had no real power here—I’d agree to anything to get him back in bed quietly. When he exhausted all the standard stuff, he finished by needing to tell me something very important, like “I saw a rock today on the ground and it had dirt on it and I forgot to tell you!” and I steered him back to his room.

By the time I headed back to my bed, the baby had turned into a starfish. Legs and arms stretched out, taking up my whole side of the bed.

I slid next to and under him, being careful not to wake him. I couldn’t move. I was scared to breathe. This was a very delicate situation. I had to move him. I had to risk it.

The first attempt to move him just made it worse. He swung both arms and legs on top of me. He was stirring so I couldn’t move a muscle. I was like a statue while I listened to his breathing to hear when he was in a deep enough sleep to move him.

Finally, by midnight I had successfully moved him. I hadn’t heard from Crappy Boy in a while so he must be asleep, too. I fell asleep for the first time!