Oh boy. I am in biiiiig trouble in a couple of years.
Or maybe starting now. Who knows?
Bjorn is a little booger. (He gets that from his Dad.) He's also a little smarty-pants. (He gets that from his Mama). Combine the two and you get trouble.
See, I never read any books on pregnancy and parenting. (Does Jenny McCarthy's book count?) I figured that people had been parenting and having babies for thousands of years, so what did I really need to read up on that I couldn't figure out just like they did?
And that is why I didn't know that if you stay at home with your baby for 8 months (yay!) and rock him to sleep (almost) everytime he takes a nap or goes down to bed, then you can't one day just decide that he doesn't need to be rocked anymore and he can go to sleep by himself.
You can try to put him in his crib while awake. You can even turn off the baby monitor for 15 minutes so the wails and shrieks coming from his room don't sound so ear-piercingly sad. But the same thing will always happen.
You will walk right back into that room, pick him up out of his crib. The second you do that, he will fall asleep peacefully on your shoulder, nestling in for a good winter's nap.
Until next time, of course, when it will all happen again. Rinse and repeat.
So Daddy and I are trying to break the Little Man from his need to be held. Not because we don't want to hold him to fall asleep - we do. We just don't want to have to hold him to fall asleep.
It has become quite a battle around nap/sleeptime, and although we won a few fights, I think Daddy and I are going to lose the war.
Which brings us to last night.
Bjorn and Daddy were both sick this past weekend. (Don't ask. I'll just say - it wasn't a pretty picture. Bjorn couldn't hold in his food and Daddy had food poisoning. Just bad all around.) Both boys were finally feeling a little better Monday night, so although we had slacked off on the putting-Bjorn-to-bed-awake thing (it's just easier when he's sick not to try it), we were determined to start again last night.
Of course, he begins crying and screaming, which just kills my Mommy ears. I turned down the monitor and went to the furthest part of the house I could. Ten minutes later, there was nothing. No tears, no sniffles. Nothing.
I bombarded Daddy with questions.
"Is he ok? Do you think he fell out of the crib? Or is he just silent screaming, gearing up for the next round? Do you think he forgot how to cry?"
I soft-shoed up to Bjorn's room, and reminiscent of last week, slowly peered - Charlies Angel style - into his room.
Where he was standing straight up in his crib, looking right at the door, not making a sound.
Little booger was pretending. Trying to catch me in the act of checking on him.
Thanks to my ninja fast reflexes, Bjorn never saw me. I leapt back from the door and flattened myself against the wall, and waited. He stood staring at the door for a good minute before plopping down, crying for another thirty seconds and then falling fast asleep where he slept through the night.
Until 7:30 this morning when I go in to wake him. Where he is, again, standing straight up and looking at the door. This time, though, when he sees me, he is cooing and smiling, almost making me forget what a little booger he was last night.