Napping Wars!

Little One has always been a terrible napper. Sleepless nights, of course, I expected and accepted until she was 6 months old and we began the dreaded sleep training. We went for controlled crying and it worked brilliantly for us. By this point I knew she didn’t need the night feeds and was waking more out of habit than anything else (she had teased us with the odd miracle night sleeping 7pm-7am  while I, on the other hand, woke every hour wondering if she was OK and spent all the next day agonising over what I did differently in an attempt to recreate the exact same circumstances!). She would go down no trouble at bedtime: bath, story, feed, put in cot awake and be asleep within minutes. Then she would wake at about 2, 4 and 6. So, one night I decided to refuse feeds and see what happened. We were still sleeping in the same room so each time she woke I would place a hand on her chest and stay silent, waiting for her to settle. I wanted her to know I was there, but that it was sleep time. The first time she woke it took 10 minutes. I thought this is too easy and I was right: the next time she cried for an hour. I trusted my instinct, though, that her cries were more because she was not getting her way, rather than real distress. I have to admit that if they had escalated to hysteria I probably would have given in (as I had done during several other attempts). The next night was much the same. By the third, she woke less and settled quicker. Finally, the fourth night she slept until 5am. Hoo-fricking-rah!!! Since then (touch wood) she has slept through consistently, except for teething and illness, waking at around 5.30.

Naps, on the other hand, are a completely different story.

If you had told pre-baby me that the thing keeping me awake at night, causing me to argue with my partner, avoid going out at certain times of the day and appear to everyone as a neurotic control freak would be my child’s nap schedule, I probably would have responded with a punchable, supercilious, ‘I-wont-be-that-kind-of-mother’ naivety. But, along with many other things that this version of myself would have never imagined doing (googling images of baby poo, sitting a 6 month old in front of cartoons, etc.), it has happened. And this is why:

We have been cursed by the 30 MINUTE NAPPER.

Seriously. Without fail. To the minute. You could set your clock by her.

When she was about 8 weeks old, I started trying to tackle this beast and get a nap routine going. I became google-mad, obsessing over all the advice: creating positive sleep associations, avoiding feeding-to-sleep and the importance of consistent routine. I tried EVERYTHING, but there was no getting her to sleep longer than 30 minutes unless she was in the car or on a long walk. I can’t tell you the hours I’ve spent walking or driving around for no reason other than to get her past the 30 minute DANGER ZONE. (Believe it or not, this is actually a thing!) What I discovered through my endless google searches was that 30-45 minutes into a baby’s sleep cycle, they wake up. If a baby then struggles to ‘self-soothe’, they can end up staying awake and never get past the 45 minutes and into the sleep cycle. This article also stated that babies need to get past 45 minutes for the nap to be effective – and this of course fuelled my obsession even further!

I already knew that 30 minutes was not enough for Little One. She would wake up crying and be grumpy and tired again soon after. So, I began working on the self-soothing thing. I started with bed times, putting her down ‘awake but drowsy’ instead of asleep. As I mentioned, this worked a treat. After a few nights, I could put her down wide awake, say goodnight, leave the room and within 10 minutes she would be fast asleep. I smugly thought I had cracked it and started telling all my NCT friends how AMAZING Little One was at this ‘self-soothing’ lark. Then, I tried the same thing with naps:

 

Day 1: Feed, put down awake and happy; leave the room. Crying for 10 minutes and then cries escalate to hysterical screams. After about 5 more minutes I go in and comfort to sleep (stroke and sing without picking up). Sleep and awake again after 30 minutes

Day 2: Feed, put down awake and happy; leave the room. Crying hysterically as soon as I am gone. I wait 10 minutes. Go in and comfort to sleep.

Day 3: Feed, put down awake. Cries start as soon as her head hits the pillow. I try to hold out; I fail. Comfort to sleep.

Day 4 – 11: repeats of day 3. And this is AT EACH NAP TIME!

Day 12:  give up and admit defeat: My child will forever be a 30 minute napper meaning that a) I will never get anything done; b) I will never be able to ‘sleep when the baby sleeps’; c) on the rare occasion that she does sleep longer than 45 minutes, I will obsess over every single detail of that day to try and work out what I did differently and d) I will remain a neurotic control freak (as if this would ever actually change!)

 *** 7 months later and Little One now has 2 naps a day. There is still some inconsistency, but usually she will have one 45 minute nap and one lasting, wait for it…… AROUND AN HOUR AND A HALF!!!

The moral to this story: Babies will do whatever the f*** they want to do when they want to do it and sometimes there is very little that you can do so, please, do one better than me and try to let goooo!

P.S. I'd love to hear about similar experiences/advice xx


 

Writer's Block

Sitting in a coffee shop, sun shining, drinking lattes by the gallon with Little One asleep in the buggy leaving me with time to think and write…. That cosy pre-baby dream of how my maternity leave would be spent has finally become a reality. After 8 months of relentless baby brain (the cloudy-headed, memory loss feeling that sits like a permanent hangover – without the sick – no, with the sick just not my sick!) napping wars and an endless to-do list, it has come. Exactly TWO WEEKS before my return to work. THANKS WORLD.

Don’t get me wrong, the last 8 months have been by far the best of my life and every day I have looked at my child through tired, un-mascaraed eyes and felt a joy, awe and love that I never imagined was possible. HOWEVER, while I wasn’t quite as naïve as my musings above might suggest, pre-baby me did not quite account for how much of my time e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g else would take. And how difficult, nay impossible, I would find it to write anything down. Now, as an English teacher and lover of all communicative things, this came as a shock. I started a journal while pregnant and loved the idea of recording every special memory so that one day I could share it with my child and refer back to it when time came for number 2. Then, about a week before baby came, it stopped. Obviously, this is acceptable during the first few weeks when time goes by in a blur of crying, sleepless nights and sore nipples in which only superwoman could find a spare hour to sit blogging on the recent change in nappy content or most recent google search ('is my episiotomy scar supposed to look like this?'). Yet, as time progressed and we got into our groove with this parenting lark, something still prevented me from putting pen to paper. I think it really comes down to 3 obstacles which could pretty much be applied to all items towards the lower end of my to-do list (ironing, dusting, cleaning the car, sorting through all the clothes that no longer fit me...):

1: Time

I’m not going to ramble on about all the things that took priority before writing. Firstly, because it hurts my head to think about it. Second, because it would bore anyone to tears. Suffice to say, baby came; writing went.

2: Motivation

As above. Plus, on those rare occasions that Little One napped for longer than half an hour (ooh I see Blog post #2 forming…) what kind of lunatic chooses writing over sleeping, eating or going to the toilet???

3: Where on earth to start?!

As more time went by, I found it harder and harder to contemplate writing anything down. I just couldn’t think of how to form my memories. So much happened in the last 8 months (emotionally, physically, mentally, blah blah-ally...) and the more things changed - and they did at an extraordinary pace - the harder I found it to remember what happened before: how I was, what Little One was like, what I was thinking/feeling The idea of starting at the beginning made me shudder. In fact, the idea of thinking backwards at all had no appeal. So, I resolved to starting with now and reflecting on the past as things come to me or seem relevant. Obviously, now I have made this decision, it is blindingly clear to me that of course that is how one would start. However, baby brain…..

Ooops, Little One’s awake!