As part of a complex regime of low-level self harm that involves looking at houses I can’t afford on RightMove and clothes I can never wear on ASOS I am now going to write more about Wilbur’s sleep. Oh Wilbur. Strange Wilbur. The mass of contradictions. Beautiful little boy, who is clever and hilarious and a highly skilled torturer.
The boy still doesn’t sleep. I stopped caring, kind of. I mean, I stopped asking why a while a go. No one, at all, has had the pleasure of their suggestions to make him sleep through actually work. We have tried it all. I even tried leaving him to cry – which, as I thought it would, made him sick. Nothing like listening to your baby cry then clearing up their puke.
Last night was the worse night we have ever had. I feel broken today and I suspect Chris does too. Our reserves have gone and we are running on nothing. Two children, demanding jobs and other worries are taking their toll. Our patience levels are at zero, especially with one another. Wilbur just screams and screams and gets more upset and nothing will calm him down. He just has to ride it out and we have to be there for him.
I have no idea what to do and no idea how to help him sleep. Has anyone been through similar? He’s 18 months and all the different sleep training we’ve tried hasn’t helped. He just screams and screams and gets more and more upset. Nothing we do makes a difference. Something has to change though, things have to get easier – surely?