In the very, very early hours of Wednesday morning, Drek decided that all of Alexa's sleeping problems are my fault. His decision was still firm Wednesday night, so he banished me to the front room to sleep on the couch, while he stayed in the bedroom and promised all of Alexa's night-time wakings would be gone in a week. He says his method isn't cry-it out, because Alexa will be a pack-and-play next to his bed and he will occasionally pat her back.
So I pushed the two couches together, snuggled up under a blanket and went to sleep. I slept until two in the morning, when I woke up from a horrible nightmare involving spiders. It was then that it clicked where I was sleeping: on the two couches where, just few months ago, I found several spider nest attached to the bottom. I was sleeping on the very same couch where, two years ago, I almost touched a gigantic wolf spider perched on the cushion. I was sleeping a few feet away from the space on the floor where, last month, Drek found another gigantic wolf spider, and in tracking him down, found dozens of spider nests in our computer cords.
I am an arachnophobe. Sometimes I pretend I'm not, but at two in the morning, after a nightmare about spiders, my true fears surface and I find myself terrified. I freaked out over tickle, every shadow, every movement. I turned on the light and searched for spiders, sure they were everywhere, just out of sight. I turned the light back off and then hid under my blanket, sure they were sneaking in and crawling over my legs. I tried to sing myself songs to keep my mind from visualizing my nightmare, I tried clearing my head of any thoughts so I could fall asleep. Finally, at around five in the morning, I was able to doze off.
Thursday I was able to clean every inch of the floor, couches and walls with a rag soaked in peppermint oil. I washed my blanket with peppermint oil and will probably bathe in the stuff from now on. Thursday night I slept much better.
Drek reported that Alexa did, too; Which is very good, because after that I can't handle thinking about a tiny baby, all alone in a pack-and-play, thinking there is something very scary in every shadow, in every tickle, in every sound, and crying out for mama to come save her so she can fall asleep safely in her arms, only to have her never come, leaving that tiny baby alone to cry in terror. After going through a night in terror myself, I just can't handle the thought of Alexa going through any of that. She may not be an infant anymore, but at 16 months she's way too small to get up the next day and clean the pack-and-play with something she knows will keep the scary things away. I guess that's why Drek thinks I am the problem.