And by “sleep training,” I mean this:
10 easy steps to do a really bad job at getting your baby to remember how to sleep through the night.
1. Put Clara in her crib while she’s still awake. She’s fallen asleep on her own for months, in our room, so no big deal. Except now she’ll just sleep in her own room. Perfect.
2. Get emotional when my husband, the man who had not twenty minutes before assured me that he supports me in whatever I think is best for our daughter, rolls over in bed to tell me, “I hate not having her in here. It’s awful.”
3. Cry myself to sleep.
4. Stumble into the nursery at the 2 a.m. feeding cry. Try not to nurse her. Fail.
5. Sigh, throw back covers, and hurry into the nursery at the 3 a.m. not sure what is going on cry. Can’t handle her being so far away. Return humidifier, blankies, and baby to their proper station, right next to my side of the bed.
6. Blearily shut myself and the baby back into the nursery at the 5 a.m. no reason at all cry. Try not to wake up Sam. Fail.
7. Supposedly devastated child pops her head off my shoulder and throws a BEAMING GRIN to her father as he walks through the nursery door. He tries not to laugh. Completely fails.
8. Hand baby to Sam. Announce that if they are so happy to see each other, then they can enjoy their time together. Fall back into bed.
9. Listen to Sam shush the baby back to sleep and put her beside us in bed.
10. Feeling as though I’ve been hit by a bus or perhaps drank the entire contents of a Las Vegas swim-up bar, I wake up beside this little unrepentent zebra in the morning:
I am tired. I am very, very tired. My daughter used to sleep all night, which means that I, too, used to sleep all night. And now we exist in some sort of Gauntanamo twilight zone, where Clara is President- nay, Dictator- and recently passed “enhanced interrogation techniques” legislation.
After speaking with her pediatrician (yes, the attractive one…he probably thinks I make up reasons to prolong her appointments) and my wise friend Hollie (who is currently raising twins a few weeks older than Clara), and reading Dr. Sears’ advice, and reading about Crying It Out, and laughing my way through this website that Hollie recommended, here’s what I decided.
1. Clara is too young for sleep training. (4.5 months)
2. Clara is too small for sleep training. (12 lbs)
3. Clara keeps waiting to eat during the day, going almost seven hours at a time without any food at all. She wants the breastaraunt (not my term, but just fantastic), not the bottle. Which means she needs more food at night. Which means night nursing isn’t over.
4. Clara is an adorable, fun, talkative, dramatic, Smoochie doll baby who we are crazy about…but that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed, every once in a while, to “feel stabby.” As the author of that great website so aptly puts it 🙂