Sleep is always a popular topic for parents with young children, right? Maybe because there’s so little of it. If you could hypnotize your kids at night for a full 8 hours of sleep, would you do it? I’d be really tempted personally.
Our Angel triplet recently instituted the “I hate my crib and will only cry when you put me there” rule. Every night, every nap, same story. Sleep became a priceless commodity for me and Tripped Up Daddy, but even worse, all the other girls began to have interrupted sleep patterns. Not good for Lotte, who was facing exams at school, and nobody likes to see Sunshine without proper sleep, trust me.
It finally culminated with Angel climbing out of her crib and dropping to the floor because she was so angry with being left there to go to sleep. After rescuing her and determining that she hadn’t hurt herself, we realized the expected crib tent purchase just moved to right this minute.
Once the crib tent came and we set it up, I started feeling like we would be putting poor Angel in a jail or cage. Bad enough we put our kids in cribs with bars anyway, but now a screened in tent? Bad Mom Guilt reared its ugly head quickly and threatened to take over all the peaceful “my child is at least safe” emotions.
First nap time, we put Angel in her new Crib Tent bed, and she laughs. She loves the feeling of tent and she skips the 15 minute cry time before falling asleep. She simply looks up at me as I put her down and smiles while I zip up the enclosure. Tripped Up Daddy and I have no real answer for why Angel suddenly decides her crib is a pleasant place to sleep again, we just enjoy the new reality.
And then - we accidentally leave Angel’s lovey, “Pookie,” at the church nursery yesterday. Nap time is okay, but the race is on to find “backup Pookie” before nighttime. We fail. We try the backup lovey recently purchased for Sunshine. It fails. Tripped Up Daddy makes an emergency run to the store for a replacement that might work. It fails. It’s midnight, and we’ve looked everywhere, well, everywhere except under our own bed in the master bedroom. We’ve tried leaving her in the crib and let her work it out 3 times now and she’s cried so hard she’s awakened both sisters by now. So, we’re in our room, I’m holding Angel, attempting to sing sweet songs about the new lovey to encourage acceptance as she shoves it and my hand away.
Finally, it’s Tripped Up Daddy to the rescue. He trips over something near the edge of our bed and there it is, the Back-up Pookie that we use whenever Pookie needs to be washed. The tears end immediately, the whimpering is done and suddenly bedtime is again possible.
I think we need a chain for Pookie - or a beeper. I don’t know if our household can handle putting another APB out for a missing lovey anytime soon.