I realize how disgusted people are going to be with my parenting skills when they read this, but it's time I let the cat out of the bag. Tonight, we're letting Evan cry it out and fall asleep on his own.
I know you think I must be joking, because most normal people teach their kids to fall asleep on their own when they are six months old, maybe 10 months, I don't know, but certainly not 44 months old. But see, we just really never got around to it. When Ev was a tiny little four pounder, just home from the NICU, we let him sleep on our chests because that was the only place he would be comfortable and happy. Then he slept with us in our bed because it was easier for me to nurse him at night. And really, I enjoy the concept of the family bed, and it worked for us for a long time.
Then Ev got bigger, and began to take up more space. He no longer nursed, and he rolled around a lot in the bed. So we started doing what we've been doing up until yesterday--a cute little bedtime ritual complete with baths and stories and snuggles and me or Mike taking Ev into our bed and laying with him until he falls asleep. And when I say with him, I mean with my arm pinned underneath him, holding him near and shushing him every two minutes until he rolls over and passes out. After that, we would neatly deposit him in his own bed, where he would sleep for a portion of the night (could be three hours, could be nine) before crawling into our bed and spending the rest of his slumber with us.
This has worked out okay I guess, but in recent months even the queen size bed isn't big enough for those night visits, and one of us grown-ups would eventually end up in Evan's bed, or on the living room couch. This was not what we wanted, and we're both feeling cranky about it, so it was time to take action.
Instead of one of us putting Ev to bed tonight, I tucked him into his own bed, turned out the light and shut the door. I think we let him cry for a little over five minutes, and when I peeked in on him, he was standing next to the bed, crying that horrible chest heaving cry that every parent hates. So we gave him a hug, put him back in bed, turned the fishtank light on, and told him good night again. He cried for about half a minute, and when I looked in on him after five minutes, he was just laying in bed quietly. I called Mike to come in and see, and Ev rolled over and saw him and started crying again. So Mike went in, gave hugs and kisses, and left again. And now here I am, in the next room, trying not to go peek in on him again. I could hear him talking to himself for a little while, but he's been quiet for the last few minutes. I hope he's asleep and not just laying there, seething with rage toward his horrible parents.
If we can do this for a few more nights, I think we'll be golden. The other big challenge will be escorting him back to his room when he comes for his late night visits. I hope we can manage it, because it's time we all got some sleep.