Crib Prison and other Confessions of a Sometimes Mean Mom

Henry has enjoyed the co-sleeping plus program since his earliest months. The plus means that he almost never slept without being held...like ever. And while my arms are now nice and strong, I couldn't wait to improve the arrangement. Since moving to our new apartment Henry has napped exclusively in his beautiful crib, and the improvement to my quality of life from that change alone is incredible. In addition, I can now get him to start the night in his crib, but he doesn't fall asleep in it, and he doesn't stay in it all night long.

I set about to change this, but there is a catch: Henry is a patternless sleeper! Nap times are unpredictable and there seems to be no correlation between his second nap time and bed time. Wednesday I worked very hard to get Henry to nap at times that would put him in bed by 9:00p.m. I had high hopes because his schedule from the day before had matched up with this.

Based on the instructions that I should put him in his crib when he was drowsy, but not asleep I closely monitored him for drowsiness. 9:00 came and went. Then 10:00 came and went. Finally it was 11:00 and we were still not in the same neighborhood as drowsy. Correction--I was well past drowsy, but Henry was crawling around at what seemed a million miles an hour and didn't seem ready to stop anytime soon. I'm not ashamed to say that I cried from exhaustion and frustration. When he finally passed out at midnight, I set him in his crib where he slept for several hours before moving into the bed with me. Shortly after that transition, and I mean very shortly Henry awoke at an obscene hour. I expected to see a sleepy baby wanting to nurse, but instead I got a bright eyed baby with a playful smile. "No", I hissed, "go back to sleep!" He giggled. I tried everything in my arsenal, with no luck. Finally I resolved to ignore him and create a sleeping human barrier than prevented him from launching himself off the bed (one of his greatest aspirations in life). He wiggled around playing and laughing for a while, and then apparently got bored, so he started pulling my hair.

Now, I am a pretty patient person and a very patient mother. I always feel calm and in control when dealing with Henry messes. I most often rationally conclude that they occur because I have left something in his reach. I am a nice mom. In fact, I'd have to say that Henry has a pretty awesome mom, but he doesn't have a perfect one.

Mean mommy arrived at the scene as I weighed my options. I was too tired and too irritated to get up with him, but the hair pulling was not working for me. I did the only other thing I could think of--I sentenced him to crib prison. I gently placed him in his crib, and then went back to the bed and ignored him for a few minutes of rest. Then when nice mommy was able to come back I retrieved him and he went back to sleep.

The truth is I can't always be a tra la la and games and songs and stories mom. I have limits. I have thought about mean mommy a lot since becoming a mother. I occasionally am a mean mom, and I write this post so that any other mothers who also experience mean mommy moments may know that they are not the only one.

Henry has totally recovered from his brief time in the big house, but this mischievous little love of mine will certainly meet mean mommy again, and that's okay because mean mommy loves him just as much as nice mommy does--it's just tough love.