girlfiend

We had a rough evening. The Fiendling was tired and cranky and throwing cans of cat food. He fought through his bath and didn’t want to get dressed afterwards. And bedtime is the worst. He goes to sleep fine for his father but all the Fiendling wants to do when I put him down is nurse and pinch and slap me around. Boyfiend’s gone for the night and I really wanted to be able to relax and enjoy rocking the Fiendling to sleep but it was painful and frustrating and I couldn’t. Why does he have to nurse with me when he goes to sleep fine with his dad? Will he ever be ready to wean? He switched sides and I thought about just putting him in his crib to cry. I mean the boy has to learn how to fall asleep on his own some time. Instead, frustrated, I rocked him some more while he fitfully nursed.

Then he sat up, looked around and signed for more milk. I said, “No, sweet pea. No more. It’s all gone. It’s time to go to sleep.” He shook his head no and tugged at my shirt. I said, “All gone. Time to sleep.” He shook his head no some more, flopped over, looked up at me and smiled. I kissed his forehead, whispered the words to the book Counting Kisses, and listened to him babble as we rocked. He said cat a few times and hot and I agreed that yes, he was a little bit sweaty and it was hot. I listened to his sweet voice say cat a few more times. He was quiet for a while but his eyes were still open and I tried to put him down. He whimpered and shook his head no. I sat back down and rocked him a few minutes longer. I stood and he didn’t protest. I put him down in his crib, eyes open, told him I love him, turned his music on and left the room.

I’m glad I didn’t let my frustration get the best of me. I’m glad I stayed.