My sweet little No Nap Joe is going to start napping. He is going to start going to bed at a real bedime. The little bluish circles under his big brown eyes are going to disappear.
From the outside looking in, Kenny really is the happiest baby you would ever see. At the grocery store today, he sat in the cart like a minature politician, waving wildly at all of the men and cooing and smiling at even the homliest of the women. If he could have reached the other babies present to kiss them, he would have. He is bright, charming, really smart, joyful and just plain fun to hang around with. But he also nets less than 9 hours of sleep in many 24 hour periods, and I fear that the sleep deprevation is starting to take its toll.
Bedtimes are getting later and later and naps are really just a wishful joke.
So Casey and I bought a book on “sleep solutions.” I can’t believe I’m saying it, but we are actually going to *gasp!* get Kenny on a schedule. We’ve tried to be hip; to fit Kenny into our lifestyle without missing a beat (other than the fact that I now drive an SUV instead of a convertable, and my stylish handbags have become dowdy diaper bags). But it just doesn’t work! How can we expect our precious littlest guy to go to bed at night when his bedtime is completely reliant on our whims and social calendar?
So last night we put him to bed at bedtime and let him cry. I thought I would throw up, it hurt that bad to listen to his wails of despair. But after 17 minutes, he was OUT.
This afternoon, I tried the same thing at naptime, but I was also hosting a 6’5″ man from Eastern Africa who barely spoke English as he steam cleaned our carpets to rid the berber of its dog dander and rawhide chew stains. And Kenny’s bed was in the guest room, and I don’t think the little guy has ever even been in there before today. I let him cry, thinking that within 17 minutes or so he would be pulling zz’s, but he just kept at the screaming, amplified no doubt by the helpful carpet cleaner, who kept saying things like, “Aren’t you going to attend to your little one, Ma’am? He is clearly crying,” and “Oh, my heart would be breaking if that were my son making those sounds.”
Thanks, man.
At 6:30, he was bathed, nursed and rocked. Casey went in to give him a hug and put him down, and he cried for 14 minutes. And then he… went to sleep like a baby…
Stay tuned… if I can overcome these nap battles, I may actually start having an adult life a few hours out of every day. My house will be cleaner, I will start showering on a regular basis (my husband will really appreciate that one!) and I will be much saner I’m sure.
Do you want to know something funny, though? I actually miss him when he’s asleep. I start to imagine his warm little body and how it feels when he snuggles up to my chest, and suddenly I can’t wait until he’s awake again. Ironic, isn’t it?