Growing Pains: My Rant For The Day

Dear Lord, I’m tired.

Like, can’t-function-properly-tired.

I went to make toast for myself this morning, after I had fed the kids, and I got out the blender instead of the toaster.

I put the cereal box in the fridge.

Apparently, you need sleep to function properly. WHO KNEW?!

Nights have been rough here lately. My husband travels for work occasionally, and this last trip has lasted a week and a half—usually it’s a day trip, or two days max.

So that means I deal with bedtime tantrums (which are a common occurrence in my household) on my own.

The thing with my kids is that they don’t sleep. Well, Mikinley does, but I swear to gosh it took her four years to sleep through the night.

Brenna wakes up at least twice every night.

She’ll wake up with any sort of excuse—she’s hungry, her belly hurts, she wants her sippy cup, she wants to lay with us. Usually quick fixes.

But the last two nights have been so miserable. With Derrick gone, I just let her lay with me to save myself a wake-up during the night. However, she has been a completely different kid and I’m going insane.

She will lay in bed, stretch and kick her legs and toss and turn nonstop. I could tell something wasn’t right. She’s not just being whiney or fidgety.

I remember this happening with Mikinley as well.

I knew it was the dreaded growing pains.

I had given Brenna some Tyenol to help with the pain, but I think what she really wanted was a shot a whiskey cause the medicine didn’t help a bit.

So I laid awake for hours while she tried to sleep. I rubbed her poor little legs so she could relax and get some relief.

That alarm in morning came WAY too fast.

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I feel so bad that she’s going through this uncomfortable-ness, (is that a word?), even though we all suffered the pain of our stumps growing.

But at the same time, I need sleep, dag nabbit!

By the end of the day, I’m pooped, exhausted, cranky, don’t feel like doing anything. Part of me just wants to fast forward to when my kid freakin sleeps like a normal human being, but the other part of me wants to cherish every moment.

Every happy moment, every miserable moment, every moment my children are screaming bloody murder at me.

Wish me luck peeps, and if you have any advice for growing pains in toddlers, let me know. Nothing ever helped with Mikinley, so I’m hoping I (and Brenna) can find some relief.

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