Thanks for the input!

Last week I asked what other parents did to help their children fall asleep independently. It was supremely helpful mostly because it was great to know that we are not the only parents who are struggling.

Despite my curiosity as to what other parents found to work, I wasn't ready to do much. Mostly because I decided my only recourse was letting Haven cry it out. At Christin's suggestion, I did start to bring a stuffed monkey to hang out with us while I nursed Haven to sleep. I sort of forced the thing on him and he was not too interested.

However, after several hour-plus go-to-bed sessions I decided I was ready for some alone time with Dave and a semblance of a nigh time routine for Haven. I decided I was ready. To let Haven cry.

We have let him cry before. Once for an entire hour. After that, I thought that crying led to sleep as a rainbow leads to a pot of gold. We started Saturday's cry session with a let's-see-what-happens mentality. Davene, your quote of the verse that says, "No discipline is pleasant in the moment..." played over and over in my mind.

Dave and I were cleaning out the attic. Don't worry. We didn't miss out on any of the heart-wrenching sobs permeating our apartment. We just got to do two fun things at once: sort through our junk and listen to our little guy scream.

It took us about an hour to get through half of the attic (in our defense, it's a huge walk-up attic). Dave left to take a carload of crap to the Salvation Army and I planned to go rescue Haven from his misery. Just as I approached his door the sobbing started to dwindle. A few silent seconds passed, then more crying erupted. I thought maybe, just maybe, this child is getting tired. He cried intermittently for another half hour while I sat stiff as a board listening from the living room. By the time Dave got home, Haven was just about asleep.

Once sweet silence entered the apartment, I crept into Haven's room. He was pushed all the way to the corner of the crib, his head nestled there. His blanket was balled up in anger. The "comfort" monkey was upside down in mockery. But sleep. There was independent sleep.

Sunday night I started a little ritual. A few books. Nursing. Diaper change. Pajamas. Pray. Here's the monkey, oh, you don't care, here he is anyway. Good night. He only cried for twenty minutes and then I found him asleep, with the monkey, whom we call Dangles by the way, peacefully next to him.

Here's hoping this is the beginning of a smooth transition to a big boy bedtime routine.