Today marks the start of week four of my 2-year-old’s defiant battle against sleep. Initially, everything seems fine until he wakes up wailing just a few hours in — a situation that invariably leads to my own screams and tears born out of sheer frustration and fatigue.
It’s becoming painfully clear why sleep deprivation is often used as a form of torture. My brain and body barely function (let’s be honest, I’m running on less than 50% these days) after a few broken hours of sleep spread over a long night. Waking up repeatedly to a child who is utterly exhausted yet refuses to sleep, coupled with his demands for food that he ultimately refuses to eat, is a new kind of patience test that I didn’t sign up for.
Over the past four weeks, I’ve learned that I become an emotional wreck when I’m sleep-deprived — a situation exacerbated by the fact that I’m also nearly six months pregnant. The helplessness I feel when I can’t comfort my child turns to hopelessness after numerous failed attempts to console him.
Before becoming a mother, I thought I had a grasp on what parenthood entailed. I babysat many kids and even raised my teenage niece for a year after a family tragedy. I assumed the teenage years would be the toughest with their hormones and drama. Little did I know that sleepless nights and bartering over meals would prove to be far more challenging than anything I faced back then.
I have shed more tears into my cupboards and coffee cups than I care to admit after each unsuccessful effort to get my child dressed, fed, or to clean up after himself. I’ve swapped reasoning for bargaining (like promising to let him watch his favorite show after breakfast), but nothing seems to work. We’ve tried every trick in the parenting playbook: co-sleeping, sleep training, essential oils, and even blackout curtains. Yet, nothing has proven effective in the long run. The fleeting moments of success are often overshadowed by emotional despair.
Parenting is incredibly tough, especially when compounded by sleep deprivation. Typically, I consider myself optimistic and resilient, ready to tackle each day with enthusiasm. But these days, it feels as if each new day drains me, leaving me a hot mess crying into my coffee. Getting frustrated is tempting, but it only makes matters worse and leaves me feeling just as childish as my little one.
I genuinely believed I had mastered emotional regulation through years of adult challenges. After all, I’ve handled situations with grown men acting like children. However, this is different. The constant testing of wills and boundary-pushing is far more complex when the other party can’t articulate their needs or desires. One moment they adore bananas, and the next, they’re being flung across the room.
Emotional exhaustion manifests in various ways: from mismatched clothing to skipping makeup, living off caffeine and cold leftovers, and crashing whenever silence descends. I now understand why some people look concerned about my appearance; finding time for a shower feels like a luxury I can no longer afford.
Yet, it’s not all doom and gloom. My mornings are filled with sloppy kisses and the purest expressions of love. It’s hard to remember that the struggles are worth the rewards, but those moments when my child looks up at me with big eyes and pleads for just five more minutes of my time, or when I catch him lost in imaginative play, are priceless.
I have a constant source of entertainment that follows me everywhere, cracks me up at my lowest moments, and reminds me that despite everything, I’ve created something truly remarkable. It’s the most challenging adventure of my life, and we’re only in the early phases of this journey. I know there will be many more tough times ahead, but the sight of my little one’s face lighting up when I walk through the door makes the emotional exhaustion feel manageable.
I’m an exhausted, emotional mama, and I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. To all the weary moms and dads out there — keep pushing through. You’re doing your best. Remember, “All you can do is all you can do, and all you can do is enough.”
Love,
One weary mama
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Summary
In this candid reflection, Emily shares her struggles with her 2-year-old’s refusal to sleep, compounded by her pregnancy. She discusses the emotional toll of parenting, the challenges of sleepless nights, and the fleeting moments of joy that make it all worthwhile. Despite the exhaustion, she emphasizes the importance of perseverance and maintaining a positive outlook.
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