Ok, so not literal hives. But I fucking hate the mere idea of sleep training. The words “sleep” and “train” should not even be allowed to live in the same sentence together. It’s like “eat” and “jog” or “Friday night” and “no wine”. Like, how is sleep training even a thing? What kind of person came up with this idea in the first place? And why did they feel it was necessary to tell mothers that oh by the way, along with birthing and feeding and weening and every other “-ing” of parenthood, there’s a rule book for sleeping too? What did parents even do before there were books and experts and midnight Google searches to tell them there are supposed methods to this sleep training madness?
If I sound a titch angry it’s because, well, I kinda am. Angry. Frustrated. Overwhelmed. Exhausted. You see the thing is, my beloved Baby B used to sleep like a champ. And now hIs sleep skills are like my social life: broken. He’s down at 7:30 and up nearly every hour after wanting all the things I know I’m not “supposed“ to give him (food, hugs, pacifiers). Perhaps it’s a regression or a developmental thing or a sick twisted plot to drive me bonkers. And if it’s the latter, it’s working. With every one of his pitiful waking cries, I want to run for the hills. (And by “hills” I mean beach and ocean and young gentlemen waiters with cocktails.) But I also definitely want to fix it. I want to super mom the shit out of this sleepless situation and make it all better for him, for me, for us. And I want to do all this without another set of rules.
Because the thought of all the rules that come with parenting have made me more tired than my sleepless baby. I don’t to read a book or take a course on sleep training (🤢) or obsess over something I read on the internets while hiding from my 4 year-old in the bathroom just to have another expert voice in my head at every bedtime, telling me that I must do it this way or that I’m failing by not doing it that way. I don’t want to blindly follow a rigid regimen from someone with a PHD or thousands of blog followers or a freaky Magic Merlin Sleep Suit, someone who doesn’t even know my B. After all, shouldn’t I always immediately know what’s best for him at all times? Shouldn’t I innately know how to get him to sleep on his own from sun up to sun down? Isn’t the fact that I’ve been through all this sleep stuff already with the afore mentioned 4 year-old mean that this should all feel familiar and easy?
Fact: I know that the answer to all of these questions is No. And, yes, I can admit that as much as I hate, nay, fucking loathe sleep training (🤮) what I’m doing now just isn’t working. (And to be clear, “what I’m doing now” consists of all the wrong things, things that would make those sleep experts twitch: Feeding. Rocking. Holding. Rocking some more. Making a silent prayer (🙏) whilst placing sleeping child into crib and silently tip-toe sneaking away—cartoon style—before he so much as twitches an adorably fat little finger. Aaaand repeat.) But also fact? I still can’t bring myself to sleep train. I just can’t.
So where does that leave me?
Someone just told me that a baby waking up alone in his crib after being lulled to sleep all nuzzled and warm and cozy in your arms is like going to sleep in your own bed and waking up in the front lawn.
Interesting.
Maybe I’ll drink enough wine tonight in order to test this theory out. Waiter? 🙋🏻♀️
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