joy and sorrow

Today Jonah had his first trip to the “Little Farm.” We’ll have to go again at least one more time, because his father wasn’t with us. But we’ll probably go more often than that because he loved it.

He kicked his legs and giggled and sucked in little joyful sucks of air and cooed at the goats, the sheep, the chickens, the big brown cow that sauntered over as if she understood the word “celery,” understood it was her job to meet him at close range with her giant globe of a sad brown eye.

Tonight, we tried a later bedtime, in case maybe that would help. You know, help him not to cry. So much. Or something?

He was quiet, calm, compliant with the whole bedtime routine, until his back hit the mattress. And then he started screaming.

Hysterical, wailing, shrieking. Angry, loud, hoarse.

I may have lasted 5 minutes, or 7, before I decided I couldn’t take it tonight. I don’t know what to believe anymore. I don’t know who to trust. I just didn’t want him to cry.

I walk in the room. He sees me. Waves his arms and legs, desperate. Yes. This time. I pick him up and hold him. He buries his head in my shoulder, one hand clinging to my chest. He is sweaty, almost hyper-ventillating. It takes ten minutes for his breath to slow to normal. I don’t rock or sing. Just hold him. When he seems asleep, I put him back in the crib. Of course, he wakes up and cries. But not quite as before.

There’s a way that he cries when he’s about to fall asleep, especially when he’s woken himself up after having fallen asleep on one of us. It’s a cry mixed with pacifier suck-sucks. Doesn’t usually last long.

Within a few minutes, he is asleep.

I try to tell myself that tonight was worse, and that’s why I went to him, but Scott says it’s just that tonight I was tired and didn’t have the patience for it.

Tonight would officially count as “waffling.” I’m considering a new system where I always go in and pick him up when he cries if it sounds like he’s escalating instead of winding down. Will this make him spoiled, demanding, and manipulative? Will it herald a new era of the boy never going to bed at a reasonable hour?

How long did it take me to get to this “new” idea? Can I put this strategy in my accidental parenting book? Will I change my mind again and let him cry for 45 minutes tomorrow night?

I. don’t. know.