This summer, right around the time I found out I was pregnant , my three-year-old son stopped sleeping.

The timing of his sleep regression (and the associated crankiness that led to some fairly atrocious behaviour and night-time meltdowns ... ask me about the time he whipped an entire rocking horse at my husband) could not have been worse, but thats kids for you.

Obviously, I got my morning sickness at night, so to say I was desperate would be a slight understatement. Theres nothing like barfing your brains out at 9:45 p.m. while listening to your kid scream NOOOOOOOOO!!! followed by a loud bang and your husband screaming OMG WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY PHONE?! to really make you question your life choices, you know?

Anyway, after a few months of this nonsense, I emerged from the bathroom one night, wiped my mouth on my sleeve, and decided enough was enough. I was going to fix my sons sleep, meltdowns, and maybe even my life, once and for all.