I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

While I stole the title line from a chain email I received today, it is the truth. I have always said that there are 2 things you don't screw with when it comes to me - my food and my sleep. Much of my adult life has been sleep deprived. In my 20's, it was by choice. I worked nights as a waitress and bartender and lived the "alternative life style". While the rest of you (but not all) went out for happy hour at 5, I was serving you drinks. When you were brushing your teeth, I was sweeping the bar. And when you were fast asleep, I was racing to the Chadds Ford Tavern in order to make last call. I seldom got home before 3 am and was know to drink well into the next morning. And then I got up the next day and did it again. I kid you not, the year I turned 21, I missed 2 nights at the Chadds Ford Tavern and it was probably because someone had chained me to a bottle of antibiotics. I remember rationalizing that it would probably be helpful for my throat infection if I went out and drank a brandy. (Psst. I didn't even drink brandy.)

Most of my early to mid 30's sleep deprivation was courtesy of Max. I'll admit, I was a nervous mother. But before that, I was a nervous, very uncomfortable pregnant soon to be mother. Once I hit about 6 months, I looked as pregnant as most 9 month pregnant women. I was so uncomfortable I couldn't sleep in my bed anymore. I slept on the couch and woke up numerous times to shift, turn and pee. Then I gave birth to a 9.6 lb., 23 inch 5 month old. And he ate around the clock, literally every 2 hours for months. And I was determined to do the right thing and breast feed exclusively. I was not going to poison my child with that formula crap most of the world gives their kids. No- I was going to lose even more sleep to ensure my child doubled in size in 3 months. And he did (maybe it was 4 months). Plus - I needed to make sure he was breathing. I became obsessed with the fact that if I turned my back more than 15 minutes, Max might stop breathing. So not only did I check on him continually, I put him in the bed with me so I could access him at all times.

For all of my "Ferber"-izing, Behavior Analyst friends: Easier said than done. When you are going on about 15 years of no sleep, its starts to get to you. You'll do anything to hit REM sleep for even a moment. I did what I had to do. And for your information, I never chastise other parents who have done the same thing. I only tell them of the end result. Your child is likely to climb into bed with you at least a few nights a week until he figures out he might have more fun climbing into someone else's bed.

So about a year and a half ago, I finally hit the wall. I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to get some sleep. I had spent years teetering on the edge of insanity. Many of you can attest to this. I could go days without more than a few hours of sleep. And I am not a pretty sleep deprived woman. The older I got, the less likely I was able to pull it off. I had tried a variety of medications. I had started self medicating. I had started to feel like Heath Ledger. I called a doctor. One who actually knows how sleep meds work (word of advice - don't waste time on your GP - they don't know how to prescribe psychotropics or sleep meds in a way that will ever get you off of them). Within a few weeks, I was sleeping like a baby. I admit - I am psychologically addicted to a fraction of a dose of Klonopin that wouldn't get your big toe to fall asleep but it works for me. Unfortuately, the doctor is telling me, its time to get off of it. So I'm gonna try.

But in the meantime (which was why I started writing this in the 1st place), I have had 2 sleepless nights in a row. Still taking the "mother's little helper" but it appears a combination of the heat, hormones and anxiety about buying a house sent me over the edge. And after 2 days I am reminded of all those years I never slept. And how I wish I had.