No, for reals… woefully tired. Husband and I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a month of Mondays, since a certain Little Someone is back to waking multiple times in the night*.
It’s no secret that sleep has been a long-standing struggle under our roof. It seems in our haste to squelch re-occurring night-terrors we’ve created a co-sleeping monster. Said monster is now a lanky four year old taken to commandeering my pillow and relegating me to the precipice of our king-sized mattress.
Presently, we’re desperate. Eager to reclaim our marital bed and REM cycles, we’re going back to basics. We’ll be strategically employing the same tactic we used on the girls, years ago, to curb their similar habit of sneaking their way into our master bedroom each night. This time around we’ve traded Strawberry Shortcake figurines for Hot Wheeels, but the sticker chart is identical.
Hung just out of reach in a high-traffic area, we’re praying this simple incentive
taunts motivates him to nightly remain tucked betwixt his own sheets ’til morn. Last night was the first, and it worked! Here’s hoping the tides will turn.
*might also actually have something to do with the trifecta of Kevin Spacey, the White House, and Netflix