A Hard Day's Night

So, here at Casa Boodge we've taken on the task of night weaning. The idea has been germinating for a long time, since Boodge still wakes up at least 2 (usually more) times a night and wants to nurse. We are still co-sleeping and from day one, we just got into the habit of nursing to sleep and then nursing back to sleep every time he woke up. Usually, I can practically nurse him in my sleep, and often don't even remember night wakings. But after almost 2 years of this, I started to crave uninterrupted sleep. Plus, knowing that we are working on having a new baby, I thought it would be nice to have some sleep improvements underway so that I could rest up during the exhausted first trimester. Also, we will need to transfer him to his own bed and room before number 2 comes, and I want that process to be very gradual and gentle. So this is just step one.

I had a lot of ambivalence about night weaning. It's sweet to tuck the Boodge under shoulder at night and kiss his little downy head and drift away. I know that in 5 or 10 or even 2 years, that will be a bodily memory that I cherish. But I also feel that he needs to learn how to go to sleep without a boob, so that other people can put him to bed and soothe him in the night. So I did some research and decided to follow Dr. Jay Gordon's plan.

So far, it's gone really smoothly, and I've been so pleased. The Boodge has been a trooper, not crying for more than a couple of minutes, laying down and drifting off to the sound of me singing "You are my sunshine" over and over and over. It takes him a long time to get back to sleep sometimes, but that is part of his learning a new way. The first night that we did 7 hours of no "Boo", when we woke up I said "You did it!" and he lifted his hands in a victory salute and said "Yay, Boodgie!" (OK, he said his real name...but you get the picture). I am so proud of him, and feel like we've done this at a time when he is ready to take it on.

But then last night, after 3 nights of no boo he just couldn't seem to get back to sleep after waking up at 1. He wasn't crying or fussing, but he was restless, shifting all over the bed, trying to engage us in different ways, here and there making a plea for some boo. At 4, he started asking for cereal, so Sean took him out and gave him some, and then danced him back to relaxation. He fell asleep at 4:30, woke up at 5 and then at 6 and then at 8 he was up for the day. Sean took him again and I tried to go back to sleep, but no luck. So we all started the day like zombies.

Now, if I had gotten up with a baby who was asking for cereal at 4am, I would have fed him pretty quickly, but by the time I gave up on sleeping in, he still hadn't eaten. Sean started cooking us a Valentines day breakfast which took another hour to complete. By then, we had crossed over into a dark land of super hungry and tired toddler. When we tried to get Boodge to come sit in his high chair and eat with us, he fixated on wanting to watch the Wiggles on youtube.

And we were off. He began a full scale, out of control melt-down that lasted about 45 minutes, and had his shirt soaked with a combination of tears, snot, and drool. Sean and I were helpless to do anything...he was not in his right mind. Finally I managed to get him to calm down, and with heroic effort I got him to eat half a banana and a handful of cashews.

Then it was time to get him to sleep. Unfortunately, just before nap-time, he discovered his old baby swing that plays "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star", which is out due to the packing frenzy, and he wanted it on. After a little listen, I told him it was bedtime and picked him up for bed.

Thus began meltdown number two. For half an hour, I lay on the bed while he stood at the door soaking his shirt again, repeating "Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle tinkle, tinkle!" in desperate tones. Sean came in to try to help but every effort to help just seems to make things worse. It was just lucky that he finally succumbed to me holding him very tight and talking to him in soothing tones, and he lay down to nurse to sleep, breathing jagged breaths and sweating.

Now he's asleep, and so is Sean, (I'm expecting my cousin any minute, so can't take the pleasure myself) and I am trying to recover from Hurricane Boodge sweeping through my heart and mind twice in one exhausting morning. Seeing him like that fills me with so much intense emotion. I want to yell at him to stop, I want to soothe his pain, I want to ignore him, I want to cry with him. His howling becomes the backdrop to my self-doubt: Should we be doing this just before we move, when all the boxes must be unsettling enough? Why didn't I just let him listen to twinkle a little longer? Why didn't I feed him when I got out of bed, instead of waiting till breakfast was ready? How will I handle this when we have a second child to take care of too? Will the entire transition from night weaning to, eventually, his own room and bed, be this painful?

But it's over, for now. I'm too tired to think of a neat ending to this post. My home is in chaos, toys and food crumbs and boxes and debris scattered everywhere. The baby monitor is crackling irritating static and amplifying Sean's snoring, which better not wake up the Boodge! I can feel the edges of my patience jabbing into my stomach. I am riding that hairy edge of sanity that parenting sometimes places us on, just hoping to stay on the safe side, just hoping that Boodge wakes up with a sweet smile and a new attitude, and goes to bed early so I can too. Pray for me.