I have learned yet another truism of parenting: there's always something. Alas, this hard-learned lesson has come late at night, when Rob, Romi and I should be sound asleep, but clearly aren't. The lesson learning went something like this:
When we arrived home from Taiwan, we brought with us an amazing baby who was an even more amazing sleeper. The Little Bugger could be put down in his crib, still awake, and he would gently close his eyes for a nap. He could sleep almost any where: in the car, in our arms, in the Baby Bijorn. We had baby and could travel. Lucky us! And we were even more fortunate that his superior sleeping skills extended to bed time. He slept, in his own crib, for hours. People would ask us if we were exhausted, and we'd vacillate between pride (he sleeps through the night!), superstition (don't admit he sleeps through the night, we'll jinx it!) and fear of admitting it to our friends who haven't slept well in years. But the good times have come to an end.
Our baby no longer sleeps.
Why? Because it's always something. At first his sleep pattern was disrupted because he was getting teeth. We completely understand that. By all accounts, cutting those first teeth is a painful process and as loving and understanding parents we got up at night to give him Orajel, Baby Tylenol and pats on the back. I have no doubt that each of the five and a half teeth he currently has kept him up at night, but that doesn't exactly help our situation.
If the Rominator wasn't teething, he had a cold. His runny nose would cause him to cough or sniffle or not be able to breath, leading us to try anything and everything, from cold mist humidifiers to phone books under the crib to letting him sleep in a more upright position--on one of us on the couch. You see where this is going, right?
The glorious day came when our Moochkey was neither cutting a tooth or nursing a cold, and that's when we had him circumcised. We completely expected him to wake at night, and he did, but we absolutely weren't going to deny him his Tylenol with Codeine. And when he got over the surgery we schlepped him to California to sleep in a new bed in a new house. Sigh.
So here we are, with a once-good-sleeper baby, who has forgotten his sleep skills. It is a rare night when one of us doesn't end up on the couch with the Little Bambino. We comfort ourselves with the idea that at least he's not in bed with us, but we know we're kidding ourselves. We know that we have to step up to the plate and be firm and make certain our precious little guy can sleep on his own in his own bed. It's our responsibility as parents. Of course, right now he has another cold and keeps coughing, and next weekend we're having company and then... Well, you get the idea: it's always something.
When we arrived home from Taiwan, we brought with us an amazing baby who was an even more amazing sleeper. The Little Bugger could be put down in his crib, still awake, and he would gently close his eyes for a nap. He could sleep almost any where: in the car, in our arms, in the Baby Bijorn. We had baby and could travel. Lucky us! And we were even more fortunate that his superior sleeping skills extended to bed time. He slept, in his own crib, for hours. People would ask us if we were exhausted, and we'd vacillate between pride (he sleeps through the night!), superstition (don't admit he sleeps through the night, we'll jinx it!) and fear of admitting it to our friends who haven't slept well in years. But the good times have come to an end.
Our baby no longer sleeps.
Why? Because it's always something. At first his sleep pattern was disrupted because he was getting teeth. We completely understand that. By all accounts, cutting those first teeth is a painful process and as loving and understanding parents we got up at night to give him Orajel, Baby Tylenol and pats on the back. I have no doubt that each of the five and a half teeth he currently has kept him up at night, but that doesn't exactly help our situation.
If the Rominator wasn't teething, he had a cold. His runny nose would cause him to cough or sniffle or not be able to breath, leading us to try anything and everything, from cold mist humidifiers to phone books under the crib to letting him sleep in a more upright position--on one of us on the couch. You see where this is going, right?
The glorious day came when our Moochkey was neither cutting a tooth or nursing a cold, and that's when we had him circumcised. We completely expected him to wake at night, and he did, but we absolutely weren't going to deny him his Tylenol with Codeine. And when he got over the surgery we schlepped him to California to sleep in a new bed in a new house. Sigh.
So here we are, with a once-good-sleeper baby, who has forgotten his sleep skills. It is a rare night when one of us doesn't end up on the couch with the Little Bambino. We comfort ourselves with the idea that at least he's not in bed with us, but we know we're kidding ourselves. We know that we have to step up to the plate and be firm and make certain our precious little guy can sleep on his own in his own bed. It's our responsibility as parents. Of course, right now he has another cold and keeps coughing, and next weekend we're having company and then... Well, you get the idea: it's always something.
