Here I sit before you with bags under my eyes and exhaustion in my soul, ashamed and ready to admit that my baby rarely sleeps in his crib. In fact, when he sleeps in the bed with us, he still sleeps fitfully, exactly perpendicular to Big D and I. Like a big H. A caramel crossbar supported by one chocolate and one vanilla vertical end pole. He awakes every 3 hours or so for a sip of water or milk, oblivious that his mom-servant may just appreciate a full 8 hours stretch of sleep one day. The baby also continues the same foot-in-rib routine that he established in the womb. But this time, Dad is the victim. I can't say that this little move doesn't give me a small bit of joy, as Big can now belatedly commiserate with at least that aspect of my pregnancy discomfort.
You see, in order to get Baby D to sleep in his baby jail, we'd have to follow that long, wearily but well trodden path that all of our parent friends have taken before us. The Cry it Out method. Yes, I am well aware that the pretty new-on-the-scene Baby D and I appeared in The Bump/local news video piece about sleeping though the night. Looks like it didn't take.
I've heard from everyone who has successfully sleep-trained that the baby changes the routine after a few months and you must re-establish all over again. I've tried it a few times and two minutes of screaming from my crib inmate is two minutes too long. Add the outstretched arms and little dimpled toddler fingers frantically clawing the air for freedom and I'm a goner. He's whisked back into my arms and ferried to the safety and comfort of the pillowtop.
Round One: Baby wins. Should I hire a sleep expert of just start working on a sound-proof nursery?