who like, sleeps. like, regularly. or voluntarily. or easily. the randomness of her sleep patterns is the only consistent thing, i swear. and so, since this last bout of sickness, i am facing the dilemma of trying to make her learn to be one of those kids, or still, just trying to go with the flow and cater to it (mostly), when it needs to be catered to. she is completely against me leaving her to sleep on her own, now. the reaction, it’s not pretty. maybe it’s separation anxiety, sure, but really, she’s been pretty much like a softer version of this for her whole 17 months.
truth be told, if i knew that she’d grow out of it and every night was the exact same, i would give up 35 minutes to rock her to sleep. because she sleeps quickest and hardest when i’m the vessel of soothing. self-soothing? yeah, that’s something we did way back when…oh wait, never.
it’s not like i never tried to help her help herself – swaddling, rocking, white noise, being a little too warm, being extra super duper tired, being well rested, a whole day’s routine, a bedtime routine, a massage, up to three stories and two songs and tummy rubbing while she busts out all the words she knows. nothing works as good as mommy leaving her for a certain amount of time, during which she usually screams as if being mauled by men of wars, and then going back in with a drink and rocking her.
nothing.
so what? do i just give up and accept that my fate is to be the baby whisperer ever night? do i try sleeping with her in a big girl bed with safety railings so i can leave after she’s out? do i go hardcore and slam her with the ferber method (unaugmented by mommy’s guilt and feelings of extreme bitchitude)?
oh, the perfect solution. i should just get a night time job and let a babysitter do it for me, right?
