Wednesday, January 05, 2011
We live outside of the city limits in a small community. The revelers that apparently mortgaged there homes in order to buy ridiculous amounts of fireworks - spent at least five hours on Friday night shooting what sounded like heavy artillery. Gianna went to sleep just fine after watching a fun firework display from our sunroom window. But around 10pm she awoke in a screaming panic. We would take turns seeing about her and rocking her, but she BEGGED us to stay with her, sleep with her, hold her hand. I'd never seen that before with our independent little girl.
Interestingly enough, the fireworks themselves didn't scare her. I think being awaken from a deep sleep to what sounds like warfare is the jarring feeling that sent her into a panic. I was FURIOUS. The fireworks are always bad in our community....but this year took the cake. It was excessive, insane and just plain rude. It's not like we live in the country. We live in a populated suburban neighborhood. Trust me when I say that there was a plethora of threats and expletives muttered under my breath that night.
Finally, at 2:30am, I managed to convince her that the fireworks were done for the night and negotiated a 'prize' for her if she went to sleep to morning. Good thing I picked up a tiny LED flashlight at the drugstore the night before!
She woke up happy as a lark. Whew.....we made it through that ~ so I thought. Every night has been a fight since then. She was still panicking about possible fireworks waking her up. It was getting increasingly better - until last night when a thunderstorm blew through for several hours. She screamed her little heart out. It was really quite pitiful.
In her 2 and half years, she has never once even woken from the loud rumblings of a thunderstorm - and we've had some doosies! Now, it seems like we've entered into a whole new territory, thanks to our popaholic neighbors had a grand ol' time on New Years Eve.
For two hours last night I slept on her floor. That was the only way she would semi-sleep. Finally by 2:30, she managed to sleep hard enough for me to go back to our bed. UGH.
She was difficult today around mid-morning and I know it's because she was exhausted. Now it's affecting our nights AND our days. I'm just so irritated.
I thought writing this out would make me feel better. Apparently I was wrong. :/ But I supposed that if this is the worst I have to complain about - it's not so bad. Oh well. Another day in the life...