Paralyzed by AP

I am more Sears than Ferber.

If you're a parent, you'll know those names.  Depending on what kind of a parent you are, you may be intimately familar with the teachings of one, or both, of these esteemed doctors. 

When I had my first child, I didn't know there were "titles" for different styles of parenting.  I just did what felt right to me, and what my own research had determined was best for my child.  Of course, we were blessed with the easiest baby on earth, and never had to seek help for any issues.  A good routine was easy to put in place because we had no one else to worry about except our small man and his every need. 

As my parenting evolved to encompass another small man, I realized that the things that felt right to me fell under Dr. Sears' Attachment Parenting.  Wikipedia describes Attachment Parenting like this.  While I obviously don't hold hard and fast to any "rules", most of my parenting decisions fall under this theory. 

Time and time again I have been encouraged to let my wee boy "cry it out".  I couldn't do it.  First of all, the child doesn't cry -- he screams.  Secondly, the thought of leaving him, alone, in a dark room to just cry and cry -- seriously?  Does this really sound like a good idea?  But of course, everyone who has successfully had their child "cry it out" has a child who sleeps.  The proof is in the pudding I guess.  Of course, I am also skeptical of short term gain versus what the long term affect will be. 

But things are bad.  The situation was starting to impact my mental and physical health (it CANNOT be safe to drive a vehicle on as little sleep as I'm getting), and it was affecting my marriage.  My husband and I were spending most of our evenings trying to either get our baby to sleep or get him to stay asleep.   Often, getting him to stay asleep meant he was sleeping with one of us.  And that meant we weren't sleeping with each other.  I missed my husband.  I'm sure he missed me.  I'm unpleasant when I'm tired (that's putting it mildly), and I'm tired all the time these days.  I realized the other day that it had been well over a year since I slept 8 hours straight.  Because even before the babe was born, I was up several times a night to pee!  It never occured to me back then (at 7 months pregnant) that I would still be sleep deprived one year later. 

Last weekend, while my husband was away, I hit the end of my rope.  I thought I had a lot of rope left -- apparently that wasn't the case.  On the second night he was gone, the baby was up constantly -- every hour in fact.  Nothing would settle him.  By the time my mom came over after work, I was beside myself.  When I tried to put the baby down to sleep, and yet again he was crying, I was at a total loss has to how to handle the situation.  Thank goodness my mother was there (an AP parent ahead of her time!) to help me through.  She reassured me he was fine -- he wasn't hungry, he wasn't in pain, he was dry.  She encouraged me to leave the house and to let him cry.  I walked to the mailbox half a block away, crying the whole way.  Thank goodness my neighbours weren't outside!  It was a much better night, despite it taking lots of tears -- from both of us -- to get to sleep.  Each night got better, and by the time my husband got home, he was sleeping 4 hour stretches.  By the next night, he went down with no crying at all. 

I've shed many tears this week over this.  Every time I heard him screaming, I just wanted to give him comfort.  But I can't argue with the fact that he's sleeping.  He's going to sleep without issue, he's sleeping decent stretches, and he's out of our bed.  I feel selfish for being relieved I have a bit of my life back, but the evenings are so precious -- time with my husband, time for myself.  This also means we can resume regular dates because the baby won't be causing trouble for our babysitter! (a.k.a. my mother)

I've been thinking about this all week, and wondering if I paralyzed myself from doing this sooner because I'm too responsive.  Maybe -- but I'm okay with this.  I'm not proud that I resorted to something that goes against my fundamental beliefs, but maybe that's okay too.  In order for me to understand something, it's easier if I can say "I've done that".  And maybe I needed to learn where the end of my rope was.  Otherwise, I might have kept going until I hung myself. 

MIA

I've been MIA for awhile.

The last month has been a bit challenging, and while I do have a lot to say (as usual), I haven't been putting the effort forth to put "pen to paper"...so to speak. 

On June 4th, we celebrated the 5th anniversary of my sister's death.  The pain of our loss is still so present.  It's not as raw as it once was -- time has a funny way of healing things.  But I miss her...desperately...every day.  I can't believe it's been 5 years.  I look at my life, and where I was 5 years ago and it doesn't seem like that long.  And yet, it's been a whole lifetime.  A marriage, two children....so much she doesn't know about.  Well...I think she knows.  I think she's my angel, watching over my life and my children.  They would love her, and it pains me that they'll never really know her.

We've also been struggling with the baby.  Still.  Again.  He has such a beautiful personality -- quick to laugh, easy-going, constantly going and exploring.  And then night hits and he's a whole new child.  He's struggling with teething, but it seems to be an ongoing issue, even when no teeth seem to be imminently popping through.  His sleep is terrible.  Most nights, he's worse than a newborn.  Sometimes he'll let daddy soothe him, and other times he just screams until he's in my arms.  It's frustrating for both of us as neither of us know what to do, we don't know how to fix it, and it's never the same so we can't plan anything.  I don't care that he's not sleeping through the night.  Sure, I'd love it if he would, don't get me wrong.  But at this point, I just would love some consistency.  I'm sleep deprived and frustrated, which is a challenging place to be when you're the mother of two little people. 

There are days where I feel like running away.  I wonder if this is normal.  I love being with my children, and couldn't imagine my life any other way.  I'd miss them horribly if I couldn't see them.  And yet, there are times when my husband comes home from work and the first thing I want to do is reach for my car keys and just keep driving.  My husband leaves for a 5 day business trip tomorrow morning.  I'm jealous.  I'm jealous of the sleep he'll get.  I'm jealous of the good dinners he'll eat.  I'm jealous that he'll have 5 days of no parental responsibilities.  To top it off, he'll be in a fantastic city!  When I asked him if he was looking forward to this trip, he said not really (!!!).  He was looking forward to being in this particular city, but he was not looking forward to being away from me and the kids for 5 days.  Of course, I feel instantly guilty because I'm thinking "I would be jumping at the chance to leave!!".  Would I really?  No, probably not.  Sure, I'd love some "me" time and some sleep, but I would miss the kids if I was gone that long.  And I know my husband feels like he misses so much family time with working out of town and not getting as many hours in the day with us.  Weekends are jam packed, and it is still not enough.  I know that feeling.  When I was a working parent, it felt like every minute with the family was precious. 

I'm lucky that I have a supportive husband who allows me balance.  If I need a break, I get it.  He pitches in, he parents beautifully (even in the night!), and he supports me in pursuit of extra-curricular activities.  Really, I have it good.  I don't want to give the impression that I'm not grateful for this, because I am.  But when you're as sleep deprived as I am right now, it's hard to see past the fact that you're not getting sleep.  All you want is sleep.  In a nice hotel room with black out curtains. 

In the words of my incredibly wise toddler -- "one day".