Say What, Mr. Ferber?

So, sleep training worked... somewhat. And when I say "somewhat," I mean it worked for one of my cherubs. I instituted a new bedtime routine (as opposed to our old routine of Mommy crying, rocking, and begging the boys to fall asleep- while it faithfully ocurred each and every evening, it was definitely lacking in effectiveness). We put on pajamas, listened to a little bedtime music, drank a bottle, sang a song, and with eyelids heavy with sleep, tuck in with a pat or two and it's hel-lo dreamland. Within a night or two he slept through til the next morning, sometimes waking once or twice in the middle of the night for a hit of Pedialyte or a hug. But all in all, the whole schedule/sleep training deal was a dream.

My other boy, the one I sometimes admit that I fantasize selling to the gypsies, as my mother used to say, not so much. He might fall asleep on his own if I could lay him down drowsy, the problem is, he never is. I'm convinced the boy never needs sleep and the fact that he was the first twin to become mobile by rolling and scooting scares the crap out of me... I picture a three year old who never naps and only sleeps forty-five minutes a night wreaking havoc so much until I'm forced to go on one of those daytime talk shows for help ("Next we'll talk to one mom who actually has Red Bull instead of blood running through her veins..."). It was this non-drowsiness factor that led me to attempt the Ferber-cry-it-out (not that he ever calls it that) method today at nap times.

Now, the problem with twins is that just because you have two hands, and there are two children- well, that doesn't make things even. Even though I really wanted to continue sleep training the way I was going with Thing One, putting him down sleepy, fact is, there just isn't enough of 'me' to go around to do that (a fact that I, of course, still feel guilty about. Moms, you know what I mean). So poor Thing One had to join in the latest Cry It Out and Break Mommy's Heart chapter of sleep training. Luckily (for Mommy? Or Him? Or all of us?) he shone through again and was out like a light in less than fifteen minutes.

Not so for Thing Two.

First of all, I separated the boys, lest they cry and keep one another awake, so they were in different beds, at different ends of the house. Other than that, I tried to keep everything the same. They both had music, about the same amount of ambient light, the biggest difference (besides not being together and being able to beat the crap out of one another) was Thing One was in a crib and Thing Two was in a playpen. Both had been changed and fed before going down.

Didn't matter.

My boy cried. And cried. And cried and cried and cried.

I went in every ten minutes (I admit, I've only read the Cliff notes of Ferber's method, but my plan seemed to be pretty reasonably well thought out... or so I thought). I patted, tried to soothe and calm, all without picking him up and holding him.

It took willpower I didn't know I had. I cleaned the bathroom four times. I reorganized the linen closet. I let the Princess fingerpaint. Anything to distract myself from what I was doing- or at least, what I felt like I was doing, which was breaking my young son's heart.

In the end, he slept. It took about 40 minutes of crying at the morning naptime before he fell asleep. For the afternoon nap, after an hour and twenty minutes of crying (and most of it the coughing, jagged-breathing, hiccupping type of crying), I caved. He had pooped, so I picked him up to change him and his little fists grabbed onto me just like when he was a newborn (six whole months ago! Such a long time!) and I could feel his little body just muckle right onto me with all his might. How could I put him down again? My boy was sad, scared, and he wanted, needed his Mommy. How could I say no? Call me a sucker, a softee, ,but he'll only be little for a little while longer... there's got to be a way to make naptime go smoothly while preserving my sanity.

As soon as I figure out what it is, I'll let you know.