I meant to blog about our fantastic shift schedule for taking care of The Kiddo that allowed each adult three! continuous! hours! of sleep! Of course, by the time I had more time to finish up the post, the plan was no longer working.
I hear this is how parenthood goes, so I keep repeating to myself: control the inputs, accept the outcomes.
Over the past week, His Highness has decided that the title Supreme Soother should go to Mama and that Daddy’s just not what he’s looking for, meaning rather than having to get up once (maybe twice) a night, I’ve been getting up every time. My husband still tries to get the kid back to sleepy sleep, but invariably both show up at my bedside looking… bedraggled.
So the nerd did what nerds do: I bought two new sleep books and busted out the shelf full I already had. (Well, some I own on Kindle but let’s pretend they were stacked with the other real books.) And then I did what us nerds do these days and wrote a blog post comparing and contrasting the various strategies.
Of course, I’m only half-finished with that post.
This post, then, is about how the book I paid $1.50 for is already paying off: The 90-Minute Baby Sleep Program by Polly Moore, Ph. D. I’ll save the summary for that other post but tell you that the 100 pages I skimmed came down to one tactic: track and follow baby’s natural 90-minute awake cycles.
Yes, that means I now own books professing sleep nirvana if only one tracks sleep, wake, and feeding cycles, none of which quite fit together into one comprehensive strategy, but hey, I’m back to reading again. (Bright side.) I’m also back to mind-bending logic puzzles like, “If that book says he should be awake no more than 90 minutes and this one says he should eat every three hours and the other one says he shouldn’t sleep more than 2 1/2 hours during the day, what time will a train heading south at 55 mph get to Cleveland?”
So Mr. Fussypants ate at 2pm then slept from 3pm to 6:15 pm today (that alone was mind-boggling) and I was ready and waiting with a big ol’ bottle because I knew he’d be STARVING. And he was. He downed his food, dozed for another 20 minutes while I tried to figure out if he was needing to go back to sleep or not, then decided he was awake! And alert! And QUIET.
Quietly alert = unicorn
Here’s where things get a little loopy. I was thinking he’d need to sleep 90 minutes after he woke up at 7, forgetting he stopped sleeping at 6:15, so I was a little confused when he got a little bit Fussypants at 7:30, then I realized, OH MY GOD IT’S BEEN ALMOST 90 MINUTES.
We hightailed it back to the nursery where I sat in the glider, gave him a pacifier, and in five minutes dude was knocked out. Knocked. Out.
And, of course (last “of course”) now that I’ve taunted the universe by writing this blog post (Universe, I didn’t even PUBLISH it yet), he’s awake and trying to convince me it’s time to eat again. I will give in, I’m sure, but I just figured out if he waits one single hour, we’ll be on a three-hour feeding schedule AND a 90-minute wake cycle.
Apparently the kid has a knack for crazy parenting logic already.