When I was in kindergarten, I hated nap time. Actually, I hated any "someone else telling me what to do time", but that's another story. As I layed there, rebelliously counting specks on the ceiling and NOT napping, the kindergarten teacher sat next to me and said "When you are in college, you will remember this day and regret not taking this nap!"
I remembered her a lot in college.
Well, Wombat is well on track to some college-level introspection, because he is still not sleeping well. At 9 months. Of age. He takes a good nap in daycare in the morning, he takes a good nap in his stroller on our afternoon walk, and then he takes a good romp during his bedtime and wakes up every 2 hours.
Every. 2. Hours. That's like medical-student-on-speed kind of schedule. Or a newborn. But not a 9-month-old, people!
There are so many reasons for this. He's been sick for the last month and a half; he is constantly congested (thank you, daycare and flu season). He is teething (but still no teeth!). He is learning to walk and is up practicing his new skills. His stomach may be bothering him. A growth spurt may be bothering him. The state of our economy may be bothering him.
But I sort of feel like I have to do something. His bedtime routine, complete with bathing, booking and fool-arounding, finishes up by 7 or 7:30pm, and then it takes up to 2 hours to rock him to sleep. This pretty much doesn't let me do any work that I'm supposed to be doing in the evenings, and makes it very hard to get milk for him for the next day. One of us is constantly with him, trying to get him back to sleep. He wakes up frequently, cries hopelessly, and is only happy when brought into bed with us. Which I don't like but sort of kind of love.
(I don't like the idea of it, honestly. I don't like the idea of a kid in our bed. I don't like him getting into that habit. Theoretically speaking, I'd rather not do it - and I didn't do it until I very non-theoretically had to go to work. To go to work, I have to get sleep. To get sleep, I can't be getting up every 2 hours and then staying up an hour each time. It was easier to just sleep with him. So I did. And it's the nicest thing ever. He cozies up, he is sweet, he is soft, he is cute and he is so adorable and cuddly. I love it. But not the idea of it. And he has to start sleeping in his crib. But it will break my heart. But he's got to sleep in the crib. At least for a few hours. At least enough to get something done at night.)
So I guess we gotta do something, and it's not easy to figure out what to do when everyone is screaming "cry it out!" at you from every corner. Let me tell you, the only people crying it out in this situation will be my employers as I wonder in all sleepy, dazed and unable to type. But I can't leave my kid crying. I think it may have something to do with having given birth to him or something? Actually, my problem with crying it out is not even the crying. My problem with it is that the method assumes that the sleep issues (and therefore, the crying) have no cause; are frivolous behaviour of a child who doesn't know better. What if there is a cause?
So we have to do something. Something else. Something that will let him go to sleep in his crib. May be installing a 30-inch plasma TV will do the trick? :) Sigh.
Oh, Elijah. I don't want to push you to grow up faster just when I'm holding on to the end of your babyhood. But, more pragmatically, I also don't want you to climb out of the bed and hurt yourself while I'm sleeping. And whether I'm ready or not, you are almost a toddler, and soon you will start having memories of your own and no longer exist only in what I remember. And then I'll tell you about all the naps you missed. And you'll remember them well when you are in college.
