For People Without Kids, There's a Joke at the End

I've composed endless blog posts in my head this past week. They all start, "I'm so tired."

I am really making a concentrated effort to stop complaining about Tankbaby's sleep (I do acknowledge that various people in my life might take issue with how that effort is panning out). It's been an issue since he was born, and, while it is hard not to think about it (considering how my sleeplessness affects my ability to cope, much less succeed at anything these days), worrying about it does not make him sleep more, it only makes me sleep less.

So, while this topic takes up plenty of space in my head, I am trying not to complain about it to others. Besides the fact that it's BORING AS HELL to anyone who's not me (I'd originally added "or MOTH," but I'm not sure that he'd want to be included in this little party), I try not to talk about Tank's sleep much anymore because I don't want the advice that is inevitably, well-meaningly given. We are doing attachment parenting (or at least our version thereof), and I feel good about that decision, but I feel defensive when questioned or challenged about it. I may have all this early childhood knowledge to back me up, but I still have the same self-doubt any first-time mom has. My standard line is, "I've tried everything I'm willing to try." Without getting into the philosophical or academic reasons why I won't let Tank CIO ("cry it out," for those of you who aren't familiar with the lingo...on the other hand, if you aren't versed in sleep-training lingo, I'm guessing this whole topic is already inducing sleep in you), I can only say that I, personally, am not capable of letting my baby cry himself to sleep alone. He does sometime cry himself to sleep while one of us is with him, or if he's in the car, but to me that's way different from sitting in the other room while he cries.

That's why I was so glad to find Naptime Writing. She writes about parenting in a way that resonates with me: equal parts committment to certain ideals and ambivalence about how living up to those ideals feels in the day to day. Reading her archives, I came across this quote:


"...why the heck bother with all the attachment parenting? (Because we wouldn’t have it any other way. Every time I complain about not sleeping, someone tells me I can let my child cry. But that is not a real parenting option for us. Why in the name of all that is nurturing would we do that? When said child can get up to use the bathroom by himself, get himself a cup of water, and use soundly developed coping skills to get back to sleep, he will. Until then, any kid at my house who wakes from a deep slumber screaming in fear and sadness gets his mom. End of story.)"

And that's the kicker: I know this is my choice. I know that there are other options, but for me, there aren't. Which means that I choose this hell. Which means that I don't get to complain about it.

Except, except, except...I am slower on the uptake. I have less patience--with everyone. I yawn constantly, probably appearing rude to the parents of my kids at school. I am cranky. I want to challenge myself at work, but can't seem to find the energy to change things up.

I know that, in a year or two, this will be a blip. It's temporary, which is sometimes the lifeline I cling to at 4 AM when Tankbaby has decided that he wants to sleep on his stomach, but then realizes that rolling onto his stomach makes him want to crawl. In his sleep. So that he crawls into the side of the crib. Again. And again. And again.

And until then, I'm holding on. Sometimes with more swearing and under-eye bags than I'd like, but I'm holding on.


And now, for those of you who stuck it out this far: On Thursday, a car cut me off. It was a Jaguar with the license plate "THE JAG." I assume the "-OFF" wouldn't fit on the plate.

Ba-dum-pum!