asphodellium

drama queen

Posted on: 26 July 2012

Ashelyn treats us (me) to the occasional meltdown, usually when she’s overtired. Yesterday afternoon was one of those occasions.

We could probably avoid meltdowns altogether if she’d just quietly succumb to sleep when she’s tired, instead of RESISTING. (I briefly mentioned this tendency here.)

So, yesterday. Meltdown. After half an hour of screaming, I realized it didn’t make any difference whether I was holding Ashelyn or not.

So I lay her in the crib and let her cry it out.

LIFE IS HARD. I HATE LIFE.

If I’m not mistaken, “crying it out” falls within the realm of the Mommy Wars. Admittedly, I may not be using the term correctly. I pulled the crib up against the bed and stayed put until Ashelyn calmed down, which didn’t take too long.

Then, when she’d settled to half-fussing, half-falling asleep, I stuck my finger in her mouth to finish the job.

Look, I even caught the tail end of a smile (something she does often while breastfeeding).

It’s a trick the midwife taught us, that touching the roof of a baby’s mouth triggers her sucking reflex. I keep it in my back pocket as a last resort.

I guess our true last resort would be an actual pacifier. So far we’ve held off on using one. I want that option to be available if I decide to “sleep train” in earnest. (I like to see how far I can go without conveniences and interventions, because then I feel that there are options. Which is, come to think of it, why Ashelyn was born in our bathroom.)

She napped in the crib! By herself! Not for terribly long, but at least half an hour.

Long enough for me to clip the nails on all her appendages, and then all of mine.

And she woke up in much better spirits.

Can we play now?

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