I’m tired.
Not just tired in the “I need a nap” kind of way — I’m bone-deep, soul-worn exhausted. The kind of tired that seeps into your skin, wraps around your thoughts, and makes your chest feel heavy before the day even starts.
My toddler is 2.5. And I adore him — fiercely, endlessly — but lately, I feel like I’m drowning.
It started about a week and a half ago. He got sick — really sick. We ended up at the ER, hours spent in that fluorescent-lit haze with the fear no parent wants to carry. The diagnosis was bacterial pneumonia. Thankfully, they caught it quickly and started antibiotics. We stayed home. I missed work. His dad is gone — working in the Arctic — so it’s just me, holding it all together with duct tape and coffee.
He got better. For a moment, I breathed.
He went back to daycare, and I thought we were past the storm. But a week later, on his first day back, the phone rang:
“Unfortunately he needs to be picked up.”
He was melting down — emotionally dysregulated, angry, aggressive, inconsolable. Hitting. Screaming. Ripping his diaper off. Refusing to be dressed. Refusing to go outside. A snowsuit? Forget it. Just getting him out of the building was a mission.
We went back to the doctor. New symptoms. More tears. Now he’s on puffers for a persistent cough. And the emotional crash that followed? It broke me.
From Thursday to Sunday, he cried. Constantly. He tantrumed for everything — everything. He wanted me close, then screamed for me to go away. He wouldn’t nap. He wouldn’t eat. He didn’t want to go outside or play. If he engaged with a toy, it was five minutes before he spiraled again.
I knew this version of him. I’d met him before. The last time he was this way, he’d had a bad ear infection. After the fever broke, the rage came. The sadness. The pushing me away, the screaming for me to come back. The refusal to eat. The look in his eyes like he couldn’t find peace anywhere — even in my arms.
And every time it happens, I question myself.
Am I doing something wrong?
Is this my fault?
Is something wrong with him?
Is It Just the “Terrible Twos” — or Something More?

The more I paid attention, the more I noticed a pattern. Every time he gets sick, his behavior takes a nosedive right after. And more than that — his sleep always seems terrible during and after the illness.
That’s when I started researching toddler sleep apnea, enlarged adenoids, and mouth breathing. And suddenly, things started clicking.
He snores.
He breathes through his mouth.
He wakes up cranky and disoriented, even after a full night of sleep.
He’s always been a light sleeper, and lately, I’ve even seen him gasp or stop breathing briefly even during the day.
Could His Sleep Be the Root of It All?
This led me down a rabbit hole about adenoids and toddler behavior. And honestly? I think I’m onto something.
🧠 What the Research Says:
📌 Enlarged adenoids can block a child’s airway during sleep, causing snoring, restless sleep, mouth breathing, and even pediatric sleep apnea.
👉 American Academy of Otolaryngology
📌 Poor sleep = difficult behavior.
Children with sleep-disordered breathing are more likely to display aggressive behavior, emotional dysregulation, hyperactivity, and trouble with attention.
👉 Pediatrics, 2020 study
📌 Toddler sleep apnea symptoms can mimic mood disorders.
The National Sleep Foundation explains that children with untreated sleep issues may appear defiant, oppositional, emotional, or impulsive — not because of behavior issues, but because they’re literally running on empty.
👉 SleepFoundation.org
It was a lightbulb moment for me:
What if he’s not being “difficult”?
What if he’s just exhausted — on a deeper level than I realized?
Next Steps: Advocating for My Toddler’s Health
We’re now getting a referral to a paediatric specialist after an XRay of his necks’s soft tissue to explore the possibility of enlarged adenoids and toddler sleep apnea. Because this can’t keep happening. I want my little boy to feel safe in his body. I want him to sleep deeply. I want him to wake up and feel calm, not chaotic.
If you’ve noticed your toddler’s behavior drastically shifts after illness, or they seem chronically overtired despite sleeping all night, please trust your gut. Don’t let anyone brush it off as just “toddler behavior” if you know something deeper is going on.
To the Exhausted Parent Reading This…
This morning, I dropped him off at daycare, and I’m sitting here waiting for the phone to ring again.
This is the reality for so many of us — mothers holding down the fort, holding our kids when they scream, holding back our own tears in the bathroom.
If you’re walking through this season too — the tantrums, the confusion, the sheer emotional exhaustion — I see you.
You’re not alone.
You’re not crazy.
You’re not failing.
You’re just a parent doing their absolute best with a child who’s struggling in ways they can’t explain yet.
Let’s talk about this more. Let’s stop whispering about how hard this part is.
And let’s remind each other that there’s no shame in saying:
“I’m tired. But I’m still here.”
💛 Helpful Resources for Parents
Sleep Disorders and Behavior in Children – Pediatrics Journal
Signs of Sleep Apnea in Toddlers – Sleep Foundation
Enlarged Adenoids and Behavioral Impact – ENT Health
Here are some helpful links that may help you mama, trust me, when I say I hear you, I mean it.
Check out this blog post : 5 Ways We Trigger Our Kid’s Anger (Without knowing It)
Check out this blog post : How to De-Escalate a Toddler Meltdown Without Losing Your Mind (or Your Sanity)