Drowsy But Awake

I am a new parent, and like all new parents I work hard to find good advice and then put it into practice.  I seek out people that I believe to be good parents and talk to them about things that are happening with my child.  I have never gone to an appointment with the Pumpkin's pediatrician without a list of at least ten questions.  Paul and I go to great lengths to be the best parents we can be.

But there are some things that just don't work.  Like the sleep advice we got from Pumpkin's doctor.  This is the same advice touted by the Mayo Clinic and Kelly Mom (a blog by a certified lactation consultant that I have found to be reliable).  The advice they give you is to put your child to sleep "drowsy but awake".  The idea is that they will then fall asleep on their own.  This process will teach them that their crib is a place to sleep.  This process will teach them to soothe themselves and go to sleep on their own without being rocked, held, nursed, sung to, or any of the countless other sleep mechanisms available to parents.

Drowsy but awake is not a good sleep process for our Pumpkin.  It is more like a curse, hanging in the air and ruining an otherwise beautiful night.  Bedtime is the worst time for Pumpkin.  He hates going to sleep because he knows that Paul and I are still awake.  He knows he's missing out on something and it just galls him that we could possibly even consider leaving him out.  So he squirms and fusses and cries and generally fights going to sleep for as long as possible.

But bedtime never starts out bad.  First step is the pre-sleeping phase.  We'll give him a bath, which he usually enjoys.  Plus, he winds up peeing in the tub so it means his diaper will stay dry longer.  Then we get him in his jammies and read him a book or two or three or four.  Baby books are very short.

Finally, we get to the stage where we actually try to get him to go to sleep.  This starts out beautifully.  You hold your shockingly adorable baby in your arms.  You sing to him as you rock him gently back and forth.  Many times, he smiles or giggles at you as you quietly hum his favorite song.

It's like the happy ending to a freakin' Disney movie.

Fast forward twenty minutes into the future.  You're still rocking your baby, singing that sweet song, as he smiles and sometime giggles.  Occasionally his eyelids will get heavy or he'll yawn, but he is most definitely not asleep.  He barely looks drowsy.  You, on the other hand, are definitely feeling the effects of singing for twenty minutes while rocking a nearly 16 pound child.  Your arm and shoulder muscles are starting to burn, and your lower back definitely hates you.  As you sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star for the 97th time (you started counting, because what else can you do?) you realize that the words have lost meaning.  You aren't sure if you're still singing it correctly.  You wonder if anyone else would know what you were saying if they were to hear you right now.

But your child is not yet ready to be put in their crib.  So you keep going.  Another 15 minutes of rocking and singing and mild delusion occur.  Right about the time when you feel like you're about to snap in half, and when you really do wonder if twinkle is a word anymore, your child's eyes close.  They look so cute like that.  It's possibly the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.  So you find the strength to keep going for just another few minutes.

After 40 minutes of that god blessed star twinkling its little bloody heart out, you finally are ready to put your child down in their crib.  You walk slowly towards the crib.  You gently rearrange your hold on the baby, so that you have one hand behind their head.  You lift the baby over the edge of the crib and lay them down, centimeter by centimeter, making sure not to jostle them or move too quickly.  Finally, you make sure that their little head is facing the opposite way than it did yesterday, so they don't get a flat spot.

Then you stand up and stare down at your peaceful little angel, asleep in the crib.

As you stare, their eyes open.  Their face squinches up into what can only be a pre-crying wind-up.  Their arms start to flail in little windmills.  Their feet start to kick.  And they begin crying.

At this point, you have two options.  One, you can call your spouse in from the other room and tag them in.  After all, you've been at this almost an hour.  It's their turn to directly suffer through the beauty of parenthood.  Two, you can sit your butt down in the glider and nurse that baby to sleep.  Option one has the benefit of involving  your spouse in caring for the child.  Option two has the benefit of being almost 100% guaranteed to get your baby to sleep.  Of course, Option one will likely have the baby crying for another 20 minutes, during which time you won't get anything done.  And Option two is startlingly controversial, which means you may not want to talk about it outside the home.

For now, dear readers, that is where I will leave you.  Because I've put in my time tonight, my Pumpkin is asleep, and now it's my turn to get some shut eye.

How do you get your kids to sleep?  How did you fall asleep when you were a kid?  Leave a comment and join in the discussion!

Until next time, friends.