Dear Diary,
Edwin is in his crib for a nap right now. In order for him not to scream much like one might if one were possessed by
satan, I have to trick him and lay him in there after he has fallen asleep in my arms. When he wakes up and realizes he's been duped, he screams much like one might if one were possessed by
satan. Not an ideal situation by any means. But we haven't started formal sleep/crib training yet (soon! we will start soon!) and I don't want to spend my whole morning and afternoon getting him to fall asleep in his crib. Right? Right.
And about the sleep training. I don't mention the sleeping "problem" much anymore, because it's not so much his problem as it is ours. He has no problem; he sleeps great. He's got a VIP room at the
Radisson with
turndown service and a free, self-
replenishing mini bar. I'm the one with the problem. I know that teaching him to sleep in his crib will result in some
satan-like screaming and writhing and pathetic red-faced pleas for
MAMAMAMAMAMA!!! and I just can't take it. I'm too lazy to be consistent, especially because I know that bringing him into our bed will result in peaceful sleep for all of us. And that face, when he stands up in his crib and that red little tear-stained face is begging, BEGGING me to pick him up and console him... I just don't have it in me. "Steely resolve" is not one of my attributes.
Everyone has something that worked for their kid. And it seems like many parents forget how horrible it was, the road their baby had to take to reach independent sleep. We haven't found that something yet that works, and the few times I've tried to get him to sleep in there are burned in my memory.
No point here, really. Except that we need to sleep train Edwin. I am not the "family bed" type and I never intended him to sleep with us at all, let alone for 9 months. And I'm not looking forward to it and I've been putting it off for months. The
BHE poo poos the use of any particular "method", arguing that all babies are different, they are not dogs you can train and no doctor really knows what the hell they're talking about with regards to sleep issues. He's the one who's probably going to end up doing it, the "training", while I sit at the corner bar and drink margaritas.
These babies.
Love,
Fluffy