sleep therapy

What a night. I am trying to tell myself that it is all worth it and that I am doing the right thing, but in the middle of the night, I am highly suspect, torn and doubtful. Night four of Isaac's "sleep therapy" continues. I am letting Isaac cry it out in the night as he doesn't need to eat. He hasn't needed to eat in the night since just after the 2-month mark--almost 1/2 his life ago! He's just waking up for soother or some comfort and now he's abusing the system since he knows that I'll be around whenever he beckons—some nights up to 6 times a night! I know that there are many mothers out there that would be aghast at letting a baby cry it out. But, I guess I am equally aghast, as another friend of mine pointed out, at a one or two year old not sleeping through the night and needing their mom many times a night. These are skills that they need to learn. That is what I tell myself with gusto in the middle of the day. In the middle of the night, when Isaac is crying his little heart out, I am doubting and tired and angry and frustrated and worried.

Night one: Isaac cried for over an hour at one point, but ended up self-soothing and went to sleep.
Night two: Isaac slept right through! Not so much as a whimper. Lucky or a turn of events?
Night three: Isaac was up whimper crying for 15 minutes. Put himself back to sleep. Yay! Have we made it? Nope. Not yet.
Night four: Isaac was up at 12:45am for 25 minutes of angry shouts. Then up again from 3:55am for 12 minutes of not as angry shouts. Every minute is painstakingly watched on the clock. Then sweet, coveted silence. That is until the cat threw up. Nice. Real nice.

So, yes, I think he’s getting better at self-soothing and I am getting better at realizing that this is a good thing, but is it ever hell in the middle of the night. Is it too much to put him through? In the middle of the day, it’s a resounding NO! Different tune at night. Why is it so hard to know what to do as a parent? The sleep therapy shall continue. I sure hope we’re almost done—for all our sakes.

On an entirely different note, As I couldn't get any sleep last night, my mind went wandering to all sorts of places. One of those places was a bin in the basement that mom had kept for me all these years--which contained my very first pair of tap shoes. Over 30 years old, those tappers. I decided to let Natty try them on and they fit! So, we took them to dance class this morning. What noisy fun. Miss Michelle, the dance teacher, even got out her tap shoes and it was a very rhythmical tapping lesson! Natty thoroughly enjoyed the noise his feet made. : ) Although the picture is not the greatest quality, it's a little peak at Natty in the tap shoes--"noisy shoes!"