Oh the sleep we would sleep!

So, we're sleep training.

Phew, that's a loaded sentence. There is so much wrapped up in this, our first intentional parenting experience. Up until now, our parenting has had everything to do with responding to the moment - changing a dirty diaper, now; feeding a hungry baby, now; putting a hat on a cold head, now; taking a hat off a hot head, now...And so far, our approach to sleep has been pretty much the same. As in, the baby is not sleeping, so what do we do now? And as it turns out, that's not actually working.

Well, let me clarify working. We are not getting sleep, any of us. We are tired, all of us. We are cranky, all of us. We need things to change.

So, we've hired a sleep consultant, Dawn Whittaker, who has made us a sleep plan and sent us out to tame the wild beast (sleep, not Jaya, although, sometimes I wonder...)

Aside from the details of the plan - which I'll spare you - I have found the process a revealing and challenging one, both personally and socially (for lack of a better word). There is such a range of opinions on the matter, and since most people don't see it as a matter of opinion, it's tricky water to tread. On the one hand, we know one couple who went with the Ferber method...which meant they let their child cry in his crib for three hours the first night, two hours the second, one the third and then that was that. When they say "it worked", I wonder what their measure of success was. On the other hand, someone else we know still sleeps in the same room as her 12 year old son. How's that for a range?

And how do we decide where we want to be? How much is the crying "natural"? How much does it mean we're breaking our child's heart? Are we teaching him a necessary skill or is the lesson really that he can't trust us to meet his needs?

No one I know has the same experience with sleep as anyone else I know. And the stories keep changing, because that's what kids do. We are the only ones I know personally who have paid someone else to help them and that's hard in itself. In a way, I feel like I've failed. And in another way, it just makes sense to use the expertise of someone who's seen it all before.

And so, here we are, night six of a 21 day plan. We're sleeping separately and out of the room we all share until we've shaken the sleeping-squished-in-one-bed habit. I do nap times, and Kelsey bears the brunt of the nights until we've shaken the nursing-all-night habit. And the strain is starting to show for Papa. Fortunately, I'm getting more sleep than I have in about a year (six - only slightly broken - hours last night!), so I can be the calm one for a change. At least until nap time...

Grandmas to the rescue

After a night of very little sleep and a day spent wandering around in the rain waiting for a repair to our van that never happened, I should be exhausted and grumpy. And yes, I am exhausted, but thanks to two wonderful grandmas, not so grumpy. They granted me three whole hours of sleep, whisking Jaya away for some shopping, then brought home dinner, left me a car to get to Bellingham in and took the dog so I don't have to worry about walking her for the next few days. Now that's something to be grateful for, this evening before American thanksgiving.

So tonight, a little blessing for grandmas everywhere. Praise be for your tending, tea-making, tidying, and treasuring.

A long deep breath

First off, I can't figure out how to respond to comments people make to postings, so let me just say, thanks to those of you who have commented, and especially thanks to sara t. for reminding me to get back to it.

My excuse, predictably enough, is lack of sleep. Jaya was on a strict schedule of staying up later and later, culminating in a 1:30 am bedtime that put the kibosh (is that how you spell that?) on my "after bedtime me-time". We have now, and actually, with surprising ease, found a bedtime rhythm that seems to work for all of us. Of course, now that I have committed my pleasure with this rhythm to writing, it will change. But for tonight, we still have an 8pm bedtime that allows me and us a little bit of time for being adults. Which means it's time to get back to writing.

Inspired by some great writing ("Away We Go" is hilarious and you should see it if you haven't, also "Middlesex" is a great story and you should read it if you haven't), the fact that this month is Novel Writing Month (during which writers attempt to write a novel in a month...which I am not doing, by the way, and you probably shouldn't either), and an old english teacher of mine who used to make us write 250 word stories using ten obscure words (thanks Ms. Bevis), I am going to commit to writing 100 words a day. I'll share them here, I'll write more if I have time, and I won't worry too much about what words they are. But there will be at least 100 of them every day, at least until the next unscheduled interruption...starting tomorrow...

Seven in one go!

Not flies - hours...of sleep that is! A glorious seven hours of sleep (not entirely uninterrupted, since I woke up automatically a couple of times and made sure he was still okay, but still...seven hours!)

And now he's sleeping again, all curled up in his "sportosaurus" onesie (a dinosaur playing footie) on my lap. I'd say in the third month things have officially moved from the what-the-hell-is-this stage to the this-is-pretty-cute stage.


Not sure what we'll get up today, but Jaya may be attending his first ever country fair. Mini donuts here we come!

Kicking Kid (and more photos)

In an effort to relieve the gas (or so I suppose), Jaya kicks his little legs...pretty much constantly. Okay, not actually constantly, but what feels like constantly. And since he doesn't much like being put down, like, ever, that means he's constantly kicking me.

Hmmm...why does that feel familiar? Oh yeah, because he was doing the same thing from the inside for about the last five months. I'm trying not to see a pattern here, but it's hard to avoid.

I had no idea how appropriate the title of this blog was until just now.

Apparently Tina Fey referred to the first year of her experience as a mother as being "hit in the face with a hammer every day". I would revise her statement to this: Motherhood is like getting kicked in the shins by a minature pony, repeatedly, and without provocation, every day. (I should say that although everyone is supposed to like minature ponies, I don't, so I don't care if I'm being unfair, to minature ponies).

For those of you who are seasoned parents (and particularly, perhaps, my mother), you may laugh at my realization this week that motherhood is all about being knocked around. Happily, Tina notes, it gets better. At present, Jaya has consented to sleep beside my lap, as opposed to on it, and he's looking super cute all wrapped up in the sling I have so carefully peeled away from my body in order to be able to reach the keyboard. He is only kicking sporadically, and is, in fact, occasionally laughing in his sleep. Which is really super cute.

Speaking of which, there are more photos to be seen on Flickr...(see sidebar)...and if you're a total photo junkie, you can always sign up to be a "follower" of the blog for regular updates...