one small step...

"Whatchu lookin' at?"

Oh, friends. I am maxed out. Had it. Pooped. Straight dunzo.

Let me explain: I have spent the last six days trying to get my baby to sleep in his crib. Now, don't get me wrong, he's slept in his crib since he was about six weeks old, but not without a slew of crazy contraptions.....a singing seahorse; a high-tech noise machine that plays not 1, not 2, but 6 different nature-inspired ditties; a slanted "snuggle nest," complete with sidewalls and foam positioners to prevent face plantage; and, of course, the epitome of double-edged swords: the swaddle blanket. Honestly, never has a single object had such an impact on a human being's sanity (not Sam's, but mine). This "straight jacket" as my friends and family lovingly refer to it is nothing but a cotton blanket that fastens with velcro, creating a burrito-like effect, but, trust me, it's nothing short of magical. And it's because of this magic, that I've been 100% addicted to this stupid little thing since day one of baby boy's life. If we go out for the day and forget the swaddle at home, you can be sure I'll be throwing elbows at the nearest Babies R Us to snag a new one. If Sam wakes up in the middle of the night soaked through with baby pee (delightful, I know), you can find me digging through his closet at 3 a.m. looking for a replacement. And sorry parental units - if you kindly offer to watch my baby overnight, you're screwed if you can't get that baby wrapped up just right. But you don't mind holding him all night long, do you? I didn't think so.

Yep, I'm not proud. I am officially a slave to the swaddle. That is, until last Tuesday when I woke up to find my little Harry Houdini completely unwrapped and turned sideways in his crib. The little smirk on his face was adorable, but the message was clear: "Um, earth to crazy lady! I may gnaw on my own hands while I'm pooping, but I'm not stupid. Stop kidding yourself, Mom....you're just going to have to figure out a new way to get me to sleep because my swaddle days are over, lady! BWWAAAHHAAHHAA!"

Which brings me back to the last week of my life. Sam falls asleep anywhere but his crib....I hold my breath and tiptoe to his room before gently placing him down in his crib....I close the door while Sam "sleeps peacefully" in his crib....I walk into the living room.....I turn on the monitor....and DAGGER! The screaming begins.

Lather, rinse & repeat.

Ah yes, it's been one hell of a week, but it's officially the weekend now. And Valentine's Day is on TV. And my puppy's sleeping on my feet. And yes, my baby boy is sleeping in his crib.

Sara - 1.
Sam - 427.


Janet Scott said...

Dad says "yup, that's me." Long pause........ "yup, that's definitely me." You know he's a closet pushover and you know you called him out on it. Bye Bye Burrito Baby! It was real.

Molly Hammond said...

great to hear from you sara! YOUR little man is absolutely adorable! keep the advice coming! ;)