I was looking at walkers and tractors. I wondered what Santa would bring the wee man for Christmas.
Is he ready for building blocks and chunky Lego? Now that he’s on the move, he could do with more shoes. And this house will never have enough teething rings and rattlers. But all the toys and gimmicks in the world will pale in comparison to the very special gift we gave our little trouper this week. We granted him the gift of sleep.
Bad habits had crept in. Worse, they had taken hold. For two weeks, Séimí was sick with a cold, and even though six weeks had passed since then, the middle of the night soothing and cajoling hadn’t followed suit. Every night for 20 odd days, he got picked up, if and when he woke. Some nights he got cuddles, other nights he got medicine. Some nights he got into bed with Mammy and Daddy, and some nights he got a drink of warm water. There was no pattern. We managed to completely confuse the wee man, and wouldn’t you know, he forgot how to sleep.
Cue supernanny.
Some of the pointers were obvious. A definite bedtme routine, a dark room, no toys in the cot. But some were more subtle. We made the mistake of staying with a crying Séimí no matter what. But supernanny explained that he had forgotten how to self soothe, and needed to re-learn the behaviour. She didn’t endorse the endless “crying it out” technique, rather a similarly rigid routine of entering and leaving the room as many times as it took. It sounds so simple, and so too did the process she used to “fix” the problem we had created. It looked for all the world like a mathematical equation, and one that that would invariably be solved. X pick up put downs x Y nights = Zzzzz. Three times in a row you could pick up and put back down, after that it was hand on baby’s chest to show you were there. It worked like magic.
Supernanny told us that we could expect gradual improvement over the first 3 nights. She warned us that the 4th night would be brutal, and that many parents loose faith in the process at that crucial stage, and give up. By 4am on the 4th night, we nearly cracked, but by 5.30 he had settled himself and we got 2 hours sleep! On the 5th night, just as supernanny had promised, Séimí slept 11 hours straight through, without as much as a midnight mooch.
That’s my boy.
If you have a little one who is struggling to grasp the knack of deep slumber, do all you can now to coach him/her. Supernanny insists that teaching your child how to sleep is the greatest gift you can give. This is true of course, but it also helps to look at it that way when you’re on your 19th visit into his room at 2am. Instead of feeling cross and impatient with a baby who is simply confused and frustrated, tell yourself that your baby needs you. If he was struggling with his homework, or with bullies in the playground you’d do all you could to help him cope. Sleep training is no different.
Not only did supernanny help us grant our little man the gift of self-soothing, she helped us rid the whole house of bleary eyes and weary minds. If baby sleeps, the whole house sleeps.
Thank you Niamh, thank you Séimí. Santa will be good to you both this year!
Chat next week friends,
E x
