|He's putty in her (tiny) hands.|
I thought that we were both on board. We had discussed our plan of attack at length, and after some initial success things were starting to look up. But as with all things children related, if you take one step forward it's pretty much required that you follow that with three steps backwards. And so, just one night after our uninterrupted stretch of beautiful, life-giving slumber, the Little Lady was back to her old tricks.
Which would've been fine, if my Husband weren't such a pushover.
Here's the thing about Chris: he seems tough - six feet and 185 pounds of pure, grouchy New Yorker - but the man is no match for a crying child. On the one hand I appreciate this about him, and it's certainly one of the reasons our relationship works, but on the other hand, I'm holding him responsible for the six nights of horrible, terrible, no good very bad sleep that we experienced last week.
As you'll recall, the sleep training thing was progressing pretty nicely. Just as I was beginning to think that there was hope for my no longer looking like a Mombie in the near future, Rose started waking up again. And, in response, the Hubs jumped out of bed and gave her a bottle. Which, I will remind you, is exactly what we agreed not to do any longer.
Let me also remind you that Rose does not need to be fed in the middle of the night. Based on the number of pretzels she shoved in her gaping maw yesterday afternoon she may never need to eat at any time again, but she certainly is not waking up because she's hungry. But she's no dummy, so when a bottle of warm, delicious milky was presented to her by the Hubs (AKA Sleep Training Enemy Number One), she didn't hesitate to suck that bottle dry. I don't blame the girl, I mean if someone came into my bedroom in the middle of the night and offered me a fresh, warm, chocolate covered donut, I wouldn't turn it down. Don't even think about waking me up for middle of the night sex, but donuts? Yes, yes please.
The Hubs continued to insist on offering a nocturnal milk buffet and, not surprisingly, Rose started to wake up more often rather than less. Of course she did, I mean the kid knew that every time she woke up and cried for more than 30 seconds, Daddy would come running with her drug of choice! Finally, after a very long night that included four wake-up calls, just as I was beginning to despair of ever again being able to leave the house without spackling myself with under eye concealer, I came across an article from Parents Magazine titled 5 Things to Avoid When Sleep Training Your Baby.
Right there, in black and white print, the third reason down on the list is "extending night feedings". The article might as well have had a photograph of a Father and said "this guy, right here, is the reason you are failing at sleep training". Even in my exhausted, sleep-deprived state, I mustered the energy to get out of bed and dance a little jig because a Doctor, a real life Pediatrician said that our baby wasn't waking up because she was hungry. I finally had written proof to show to my Husband and maybe, just maybe a medical professional's advice would be enough to convince him to stop feeding our daughter in the middle of the night.
I will be forever grateful to whoever came up with the idea for that article because it was the only thing that finally persuaded the Hubs to cut the Little Lady off. Guess what? After a couple rough nights during which Rose woke up twice and I had to go in and pacify her (literally, with her pacifier), she's resumed sleeping through the night. It is a beautiful thing to consistently sleep through the night. So beautiful in fact, that I feel like a new woman and I am completely and totally prepared to forgive the Hubs for screwing up the sleep training plan in the first place.
Assuming, of course, that he buys me a really nice Mother's Day gift.