Why am I suddenly caught up in military metaphors?
Alternate title for this post: Don’t ask, don’t tell.
During our sleep struggles over the last two weeks, it came up in conversation that perhaps blogging and facebooking (yes it’s a verb now) about this wasn’t helping. We were receiving all sorts of advice, online and off, and some of it was helpful and some of it was making us crazy.
I learned a bit about myself, specifically that I’d like to be right, all the time. I’d like to think I’ve done the most research, and that I’m the most psychically tuned in to my child. I am terrified of making mistakes, much less being told I’m making them.
It’s not a terribly helpful way to be. I’ve had to really learn how to take constructive criticism, especially during my years as an actor. Not to mention my work as a writer. You should have seen me the first time an article I wrote for publication was edited. I freaked out.
So with the sleep, it’s basically comedy. People try to be helpful, suggesting things, I’m suddenly convinced I’m wrong and a terrible mom. Et voila! Mess.
Fortunately, a friend of mine who has known me a long time reminded me the other day that this was my problem. And I heard it. I heard her. I was like, Okay, I get it. I can’t be right all the time. I can make mistakes. For whatever reason, I’ve chosen to share my struggles with the world in this format. People are going to witness the mess I make.
I’ve never been a don’t-ask-don’t-tell kind of gal.
And then, because I’m blogging the sleep, I keep trying to wrap the story up like: Now we’ve figured it out, gotten it right, Ta Daaaaaaaaa!
And then it all goes kaflooey again.
Embarrassing.
And I can’t stop myself. So, the reporting continues:
Over the last few nights (see previous post) we’d adopted the By Any Means Necessary strategy of sleep.
The rocking and singing in the chair worked two nights in a row. The third night it didn’t work. That night we negotiated, struggled, took repeated trips to potty, fought, let him yell. I went in for the millionth time about two hours into the process and picked him up out of the crib and held him and rocked him for the third time that night and he finally was too exhausted to resist.
Cue misery.
It is a special kind of exhaustion and hopelessness that takes over after two hours of fighting with a tired boy about going to sleep.
The thing is, in thinking about Katie’s comment on a previous post, he does know how to be alone, play alone in his crib. He’s done it for 2 hours straight during “naps” when he didn’t want to sleep. He does it for half-an-hour in the morning sometimes. It’s just bedtime when he won’t let us leave. He doesn’t want to go to sleep. Period. If we leave the room, and he yells, that’s an activity other than sleep.
Last night, Scott took over. He wouldn’t let me go in. Once I’d finished the rocking and singing, my part was done. Scott went in at intervals to reassure Jonah, tell him to lay down again. Jonah yelled a lot (“MommyDaddy” over and over — which I much prefer to Mommy Mommy Mommeeeee) but he didn’t actually cry, which also helped my nerves.
At one point, he said “Something else? Puhleaaaaaaase?” — he’s a smart kid, that one.
And at 9 o’clock, almost on the dot, he gave up, laid down, and fell asleep. Like that (snap!).
Oh and for naps? I’ve completely given up on getting him to lay down and fall asleep at naptime (see discussion of two-hour self-entertainment, above). I basically run him around in the morning with one or several out-of-the-house activities and then around noon-ish I stick a bottle in his mouth and drive till he falls asleep, transfer him from car to crib, and get two hours nap. Except for the days when it doesn’t work.
For the record, over his 18-month life, we have officially tried co-sleeping in the bed, co-sleeping in the co-sleeper attached to the bed, separate-room sleeping, Ferberizing, Weissbluth/CIO/extinction, rocking to sleep, singing to sleep, shushing to sleep, patting to sleep, sitting next to the crib to sleep, earlier bedtime, later bedtime, even later bedtime, no bedtime routine, some routine, a more strict routine, discussing the entire routine as it goes along…
So there we are. I haven’t the faintest idea how tonight is going to go, but isn’t it interesting? Okay, maybe I’m the only one who is still fascinated (when I’m not tired or overwrought, yes, I do find the process fascinating, oh navel, my navel wherefore art thou lint?).
* * *
There has been a marked shift in my fascination with sleep though. I noticed it in mom-toddler yoga class the other day. Two moms with kids younger than Jonah were comparing notes on how they get their girls to sleep. Both admitted to rocking in the Ergo, and co-sleeping. Both talked about how they ask everyone they meet about what they do at bedtimes; which books they were consulting; how they felt like they were breaking a rule — how everyone they knew had transitioned to cribs, wasn’t rocking anymore.
I remember that phase. I remember asking EVERYONE. I remember feeling like the only person doing whatever I was doing.
At least now, I’m not talking about it in person all the time. Just on the blog. Lucky you all!
* * *
We went on a beautiful hike today on one of the trails in the Oakland hills. Lots of dogs, sticks, pinecones. And this one amazing tree stump:
At the risk of pushing more unwanted advice on you, here’s our story.
We had a hard time getting Jack to sleep at night after he started teething. Even after the teething was over something had changed and he struggled to get to sleep. I couldn’t do the cry-it-out, it just didn’t work for me. I wanted (still do) him to feel safe and loved. When we put him down and he screamed it felt bad to me. (I’m not saying CIO is bad — this is just how I feel.)
So at about 16 months we switched him out of his crib into an Ikea bunkbed (the kind where he basically sleeps on a mattress on the floor, and the bunk is on top). This way we were able to comfort and snuggle him at bed and naptime. For many months we lay in bed with him and read until he fell asleep. Eventually we were able to leave him to put himself to sleep. Yes, we did have to deal with him popping out of bed and running out the door of his room, but the truth is, we knew we’d have to deal with that sooner or later anyway.
Now, at 3 1/2 years, he sleeps pretty well. I believe you do have to do whatever it takes — to have Jonah get the rest he needs and to give yourself a break. The tricky part is finding what works, and, if need be, ignoring every well-meaning advice giver/sleep expert if it turns out to be something unorthodox.
Hang in there!
Jane Huber’s last blog post..A two-veggie snack
Jane, I love your story. Thank you for commenting. And as always, thank you for the encouragement.
I completely empathize with the wanting to be right all the time and never make any mistakes. Oh, how I do. I drive myself (and my husband) crazy sometimes. I think Jane has an excellent point about ignoring advice, learning to trust yourself to find what works, which also means allowing yourself to make mistakes in the process. And wow, so much easier said than done, sometimes. I’m on child #2 and I still have issues. I hope (I think?) I’m slowly getting better at this though.
Oh, and “Something else? Puhleaaaaaaase?” Extremely clever.
My youngest is approaching three, and we are still having sleep issues–meaning, he fights sleep from about 9 to 11 or even midnight sometimes, and then wakes up around 3 am to crawl into our bed. Needless to say it wears us out. We have tried all you mentioned as well. We just try to take it one night at a time, and hope for the best, which I guess is my way of saying I’ve given up.
One thing I have learned as a parent and a teacher, is that no amount of work can get a kid to do something they are not ready to do yet. You shouldn’t feel embarrassed at all. Parenting is for sure frustrating, and we aren’t perfect, and most parents can sympathize with your struggles. But looking at the last picture of Jonah, he seems pretty happy with the amount of sleep he’s getting.
NoMasNinos’s last blog post..The Things They Say (or Said)
Leanne — Yay! I’m so glad you relate. That makes me feel so much more normal. Our poor husbands. And our poor brains. But I’m going to vote that we’re aware and making progress, yes.
NMN! — It’s true. He’s a happy guy. Thank you so much.
Giving up is some kind of spiritual ideal, right? So that makes us like, masters.
Tonight he was out by 7:06pm. One night at a time is so how it is for us too.
I like what you said about when-a-kid-is-ready. I will hang onto that one.
As easy as it can be to tell someone else how to do… anything, it isn’t going to work.
No one else has walked a mile in your mocassins, or your footy pajamas.
I had no sleep issues with my first, and then major sleep issues with my second. To this day we have a very elaborate nightly ritual involving three hundred eleven trips to the bathroom. The forty million night night kisses, eleventy hundred hugs, and the repeated bedtime story are still a part of the evening, although he does read the story to me now.
I keep coming back to the wise words of my Gram. “He won’t do this in college.” She applies this sage advice to sleep issues, and toilet training, and weaning, and all of the other drama of young motherhood.
So tonight, when you think your soul might fly out of you because you cannot do it any longer, remember that he won’t do this in college.
You know you are a good mother. Your blog readers know you are a good mother. And most of all, your child knows you are a good mother.
Rachel’s last blog post..Graduation…
Rachel — thank you thank you thank you.
The soul and its near flight, many nights that is exactly how it feels.