Month 4, Version 2.0

Month 4, Version 2.0

Dear Miles,

We have started the glory that is sleep training.  Let me be clear – I am not a fan of sleep training.  I think this Ferber guy who invented ferberizing is a Masochist.  Sleep training is essentially letting you cry yourself to sleep and eventually you will learn that crying will not get you that middle of the night feeding you so desperately want.  I think I could handle this if I put you outside or in the garage where I couldn’t hear you.  Unfortunately, you’re sleeping right next to our bed.  Nobody can sleep through that horrible screeching sound you call crying especially at 3am.  We tried it a couple times and it lasted for a mere 20 minutes before caving in.  I’m honestly not too sure how successful we’ll be since you’ll be shacking up with Olivia when you make your sweet departure from our room.  I don’t think I have the heart to keep Liv up while you figure out that the boob is a no show in the middle of the night.  Your doctor recommends I have Olivia camp out in our room for a couple weeks while you get your sleep schedule established.  Right, like that’s going to happen.  I’m working on getting you kids out of my room.  I’m doing no swapping of any kind.  You will sleep in the same room together and you two we’ll just have to work things out between the two of you. 

After your last doctor’s appointment, your doctor came up with this silly idea that you are sleep deprived.  Well that just goes to show that babies are stupid.  If you’re tired, you sleep.  I can’t teach you this.  This is one of these golden nuggets of wisdom you will have to discover on your own.  These past months have certainly made me the bitterest woman in the world.  I am tired and crazy from watching toddler programming for several hours a day.  Even when the television is turned off, I find myself thinking about the shows your sister watches and singing the songs to myself.  Sadly, I found myself to be excited when I heard one of the Yo Gabba Gabba songs on television because I had it stuck in my head all week.  What happened to me?  One day when you’re all grown and you tease me about having no friends and no life, I want you to know it’s because of you.  I blame you and your sister.  The combination of your dirty pants, your constant screaming and Liv’s freakishly smelly feet are a detterent even for the biggest children lovers.  Will I look back at these moments one day and miss this?  Probably because I’m crazy.  I feel like one of those people in the movie “Men In Black” who have their memories erased and are instead told a lie about what happened.  I know Olivia wasn’t a ball of joy at this age yet when I look back at her infancy I can’t remember the specifics.  It’s one big long blur of 29 months.

You are ridiculously cute when you’re not crying and I really wish people could see this side of you.  Problem is, you go from zero to psycho in a blink of an eye.  One minute you’re perfectly content in the stoller as we’re walking around a store and I bend down to grab my purse and the next thing I know, the bottom lip is making its appearance and the slow scream is starting.  The slow scream is when the mouth is opening and the sound is on a 5 second delay.  I can almost gauge the intensity of the scream by how long the delay is.  If your mouth is open for longer than 5 seconds and the scream still hasn’t happened, you drop what ever shit you’re holding and head for the nearest exit because it’s about to get CRAZY!

You started solids a week ago.  This is my attempt at trying to get you to stay full longer so I can sleep longer than a 3 hour block of time.  I figured you were ready when I was holding part of a cookie in my hand while holding you and the next thing I know, you’re making that cross-eyed baby bird mouth at my cookie.  The closer I brought the cookie to you, the bigger your mouth got.  Yes, I think you will enjoy food very much.  Maybe you’ll be a foodie and cook for your dear Mother – I would enjoy this very much.  I should also make note of another major milestone – you rolled over!  I would lay you down for tummy time and you would immediately roll over on to your back.  We did this several times before I just gave up on tummy time all together.  You’ll get it – I can’t imagine you’ll be a 40 year old man who flails his arms in confusion when on your stomach because you didn’t get proper tummy time practice.  If you do, well, I might pretend I don’t know you because that’s a little weird.

You’re definitely more of a handful than Olivia was, or at least from what I can remember, you haven’t let me sleep longer than a 3 hour block of time in months and you have an odor that not even commercial grade soap can eliminate but your laughter is contagious and you’re cuter than a baby bunny.  I think I’ll keep you for the time being or until the liquor runs dry. 




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