So now I know where I get my inclination to stay up until all hours. My parents just had a 50th wedding anniversary, and the night before, we were all up until 2:00 a.m., matting photos, coming up with a table seating chart, sewing part of the party outfit... It was as if it were the middle of a workday. You can bet I scoffed when my husband woke up from his 8 hrs no more spritely than I after my <5.
My poor son. He is so damn tired. He got to bed one of the nights miraculously around 7 p.m., but the other nights -- with the northern and western extra 60-80 minutes of light (Michigan vs. our home in the DC Metro suburbs) and all the excitement -- he got such little sleep. The night we arrived, he went down at almost 10:00 (no nap, no real down time all day). Another night was almost 10:00 after a nap 3:30-5:00. The night of the party he was so overtired but couldn't even fall by 11:00 (he'd had a little chocolate at the party and a hard-won 2.5-hr nap earlier that day, thanks to a low of fossil fuels). The night we flew home (last night), it was almost 10:00 p.m. by the time we got him down; he'd had zero nap and not even 8 hrs of sleep the night before.
Today he was exhausted and could not figure out how to go to bed ... wanted me, but then wanted more food, cried and cried with his dad (the usual to-bed-putter and his sleep-mate for the past several nights at my parents' house).
Maybe part of the problem was that this morning, I had an appointment with a designer to discuss wall color and the organization of my new office... for the house we are moving into this week. (And that we got possession of today, but there was no electricity because I never called the company.) He was so confused trying to play in an empty house, wanting whatever was different than his current reality: "I want to go home and rest in my bed" (which he never does.) Then, "I don't want to go home. I want to stay here." Also: "I don't want to take the wagon. I want to ride my tricycle." Then later, when we have only the trike to take home: "I want the wagon!"
After this weekend seeing the way my whole family operates, I have no illusions that I will change my temperament, but I really do hope we can make some strides toward less last-minute and more thoughtful ways to approach life once we're settled in our new space (whenever that will be). But as long as he's three, is everything I try going to be thwarted anyway?
I've got to hope that sleep will help. Speaking off, I'm a little undercooked in that department, myself.