“Please fix the creaking hinges of Marcus’ room,” my wife requested. I didn’t bother asking though why it should matter that much. I have gone in and out of our son’s room but shrugged off the minor sound the door makes. It’s just like one of those tell-tale sounds from a horror movie. No big deal. I thought it was the issue.
But the urgency of her request became clear last night. Our son has been known to sleep very late at night since he was a lot younger. We have even joked back then that he would look better with a night stick. We also called him a call center agent in the making. He is one who would fit graveyard shifts best. He sleeps that late. We have told his pediatrician about it several times but she ruled out insomnia and only suggested a change in lifestyle and sleeping time management.
We have tried all tips and tricks we know on how to make a child sleep early. Remove the TV from the room, checked. Drink warm milk, checked. No electronics in bed, checked. Cool the room, checked. Read bedtime stories, checked. Turn the lights out (he finally agreed just recently), checked. Name it, we probably have done it.
In the past days, however, it has gone from very late to very very late. In fact, I arrived from work this Saturday morning to find out that Marcus has not slept the whole night as he was waiting for me–sweet but it got me worried at the same time. We spent at least two more hours after breakfast of McDonald’s meal that I brought home before I and Marcus left his mother to continue working online. We hit the sack together in his dominantly red and black room.
Late last night, I heard wifey asking Marcus to try counting sheep. Oldest
yet unproven trick in the book. Fighting the dilemma to let her handle things or to interfere by singing a song (I realized I called in sick due to sore throat), I soon heard our son comply. He started counting. Last count I heard was three. Counting sheep had that immediate effect on me. If only I could swap places with our son.
I woke up in the wee hours of the morning and I almost regret opening the door on my way to the toilet. It occurred to me that in the silence of the ungodly hour, the creaking hinges could awaken Marcus. Knowing his sleeping pattern, I supposed he has barely reached REM state past 2 AM.
Over instant coffee and hot pan de sal this morning, wifey told me that took it an hour or more for Marcus to eventually hit the zzzs. She said our son had some concerns about saying sheep over and over again. “It’s like swear swords at some point,” he said to his mother. So I tried silently. “One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, four sheep, five sheep, six sheep, seven sheep….” It’s possible. Kid’s got a point.
Today I sprayed WD40 on the hinges. All three of it. That’s one factor gone to help him get better sleep but I doubt it. We need to see his doctor soon. Or maybe we need to change the color of his room first to baby blue.
Mood: 3/10 Honks! (Revived the old iPad for writing as my phone’s keyboard is a hopeless case.)