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Who the Hell Wants to Sleep in a Cage?

Our dogs used to like it. . .Does our kid has other ideas?

Last night was shaping up to be another banner night around here.  Mac was a perfect angel most of the day.  About 9:30 he started ramping up. I started to feel pretty frapping anxious myself.  I was exhausted and just wasn’t confident I could deal with another night of being awakened over and over and over again.

I needed a coping mechanism that didn’t involve 6 cans of beer. . .I needed CONTROL damnit.

I put him in the Sleepy Wrap and we commenced pacing.  We paced for about 45 minutes.  Now who’s the dumbass for spending $20 on a pedometer that earns you gift card rewards, Husband?  Huggy was as limp, out cold.  At 10:23, I successfully swaddled him and got him in his crib.  Feeling very smug, I slid into our bed.

10:57 I hear stereophonic wailing.  He’s shreiking so loudly I can hear it from the other room AND through the baby monitor.  I am beginning to understand why some species eat their young.

I run through the punch list of possible offenses.  Diaper good.  Not hungry.  Not cold.  Not hot.  I can feel frustration starting to bubble up.  Don’t lose it.  Don’t let him “win.”  This is a key battle in my self-declared parenting war.  

Mustering all kinds of crazy self control, I calmly pluck him from the crib.  We walk.  He falls asleep.  I put him back in the crib.  Somewhere mid-descent into the crib he begins flailing about legs kicking, face squinched up.  Drama.  I put him down and leave the room.  I listen.  Maybe he’ll just cry for a few moments and go to sleep?  He’s tired.  I KNOW HE’S TIRED!!!

As I listen to the wretched sounds coming from the nursery, I vow he will NOT spend the night in bed with us.  I can’t allow this to keep happening.  I don’t care what experts think about co-sleeping.  I already have to share the bed with a small semi-bald being. . .but I married that one.

Mac and I dance a stubborn frustrated dance for the next hour and a half.  I hold him until he’s asleep and he freaks out every damned time I put him down.  He can’t out-stubborn me.  It’s getting personal.

Finally, I take the entire crib mattress out of the crib and flop it on the nursery floor.  I place Mac on the mattress and position myself on the bare wood floor beside it.  I rest my head on a boppy pillow.  Finally, I’m getting some use out of that thing.  He sleeps.  He sleeps soundly until about 6:45 this morning.

I awaken to a happy baby and a back spasm.  I don’t care though.  I solved it!  Clearly he hates his crib!  And who would want to sleep in a cage? Somehow we can work around this.  I just have to figure out another way for him to sleep.  I can figure this out.  I have a fucking J. D.  I’m not going to be bested by a crib-hating child!

I send Chris a text message this morning outlining my crib/cage-hater theory.

And that’s when Chris took away all hope:  “I don’t think it is the crib he doesn’t like.  He just wants to be by you.”


I protest,  “But he sleeps in his little bassinet during the day.”  To which Chris points out, “What happens if you leave the room while he’s awake?  More times than not he cries.”

Can this be healthy?

Screw the Mamma’s boy concerns.  

Can this be healthy FOR ME?!

At this point, it would seem the only effective plan I have is the 6-pack plan.