Ugh I have been up half the night looking at all of these sleep advice columns and blogs and have come to the conclusion that there is no consensus on getting a baby to sleep. I’m also suspecting that sleep is an unnatural state for any human under the age of say..five...or forty. Maybe thirty. The kid is the absolute enemy of sleep. It’s as if the crib is a vat of acid and he will not go willing into that painful death. As if every whine is a warning, every cry is a fuck you, and every scream is threat to my person. He literally, and I don’t care if you believe me but is true, fights sleep. I watch that little creature as his wee head tucks into his chest as his eyes flutter shut and he immediately snaps his head up and either 1-giggles manically with that gummy, semi toothy smile or 2-whimpers like he lost a toy or 2-sort of screams in horror at the very thought the sandman almost got him. “Fuck you Sandman!” he shouts in baby. “You’ll not steal my tiny soul you cold dark demon!” he further laments. And then we are back to the old calming and soothing routine.

Twice or thrice. Who knows? I don’t sleep really so one day is the next. Each experience is just an ongoing loop like Groundhog Day. Anyhoo a couple of times we tried the old crying it out. Why is there a word for what has been a basic practice since the birth of man? I digress. It sucked. This baby was like “naw, bitch, we ain’t having that up in here.” And proceed to scream like a banshee for forty fucking minutes. At first I felt bad about it but he screamed 30 minutes to long about it and I decided that I did not feel bad any more because he had now rendered me a sleep deprived zombie with a splitting headache and desire to run into traffic. So much drama. I picked him up and soothed the poor little fella and he eventually went back to sleep. I promptly gave up on that. And yes we did check on him every 5, 10, 15 and blah blah blah fuck that shit. Baby wasn’t having it. And baby don’t play.

The kicker is that the mofo has finally begun to sleep 6 to 8 hours...at seven in the morning. Ugh. What is this?! He naps through the night for a half hour here and an hour there and finally at seven or six a.m. after whining, napping, crying, napping, screaming, napping, crying, etc he falls asleep. And gets up a two in the afternoon. ARGH. I’m a crazy person and so is the hubster. Just insane sleep deprived crazy parents. Ooops...the Dark Lord beacons! Off I go to do his bidding.