Last night, mere minutes after I'd put Ari to bed, I heard her crying. It was a little more than just whiny or tantrum-y crying... she sounded really upset. I let it go for a while, refusing to let myself get suckered in by my toddler, but finally I decided I should check on her, in case something really was wrong.
I poked my head around her partially-shut door without her seeing me. I expected to find her out of bed, but she was still in bed, lying on her side, and I could swear her eyes were even closed. But yet she kept on sobbing--those tired, heart-breaking little cries that just sting your soul. I stood there for a few minutes, not moving, unsure of what to do. Was she asleep, and just crying in her sleep? There was no way to tell from my vantage point.
Finally, I took a chance, and called out, softly, but firmly, "Ari? Hey, baby... stop crying."
She twisted in bed so she could see me, which showed me she was awake. "Need help," she sobbed.
"What do you need help with?" I asked.
"Blankets." I noticed that a couple of her blankets were dangling over the side of her bed, and barely covering her.
"You can put your blankets on yourself," I replied, sounding a little more stern. "Now go to sleep." I turned to leave as her wails grew louder.
A few minutes later, I heard her rustling in her room and went to check again. This time, the door was flung open and the light was on. Yet she was already back in bed, lying on her side, sobbing about needing help again. I went in to her room to shut off the light (using the switch on the lamp itself, not the light switch, so that she couldn't turn it back on), and she cried even louder about needing help with her blankets.
I covered her up, telling her as I did so that she needed to stop crying and stay in bed, and I wasn't coming back in. That was the last time I was in her room--she fell asleep shortly after that.
Later that night, Tony and I were talking about the situation with her. (It started with one of us saying, "Well, I guess she's asleep--I don't hear her anymore.") I said, "I just don't know what her deal is. I'd almost think she was scared of the dark, the way she carries on, but that makes no sense. She has plenty of light in her room." (And she does--she has a dim lamp that serves as a nightlight, plus 2 light-up candles.)
Tony didn't say much and after a few more moments, I hesitantly said, "OK, this might sound a little weird, but bear with me. Maybe she just... maybe she doesn't want to grow up. I mean, we've been putting her through a lot of changes lately--taking away her binky, changing her crib into a bed, working on potty training. And we keep going on and on about what a 'big girl' she is. Maybe... she just doesn't want to be a big girl."
He considered my words, and added, "Maybe that's why she sometimes asks me to hold her like a baby and sing 'Rock-a-bye, Baby' to her."
"And maybe that's why she always wants us to carry her up and down the stairs, instead of walking herself."
Like I said, I know it sounds a little crazy--like I'm trying to psychoanalyze my 2-year-old. But she has always been a good sleeper and I am at a loss as to why that has changed. Sure, there are times when she's getting out of bed just because she can, and I have no doubt she's just taking advantage of the fact that she's big enough to get out of bed. But there are other nights, like last night, where she really and truly seems to be upset about something, and it breaks my heart to listen to her cry like that. She was fighting bedtime a little before we stole her binky and converted her crib, so I don't think my little Peter Pan theory is fully correct, but maybe that has a little something to do with it?
I know that consistency is the key when it comes to establishing rules and routines. I know I can't let myself get taken in by her crocodile tears. Truth be told, I'm pretty good at just ignoring her--turning up the TV a little louder to drown her out, and waiting for her to fall asleep, as I know she will. I keep telling myself it's just a phase, and that she'll soon be back to her normal self.
But so often I've heard people say that parenting is about instinct--that you shouldn't ignore your own inner urgings in favor of following some expert's recommendation about what's best for your child. And on nights like last night, in spite of the voice in my head shrieking, "Don't go in there! Then she's won! Don't give in! She's manipulating you!"... I just can't stop myself. Because I know all too soon, she'll be that grown-up little girl that we keep pushing her to be. That soon, she'll be reading me the bedtime stories rather than the other way around, and she'll be telling me she doesn't need a bedtime song, or that she can put her own blankets on. And maybe then, I'll be wishing I'd gone to her when she cried for me, wishing I'd taken the opportunity for one more late-night cuddle, one more kiss good-night, one more tuck-in.
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3 comments:
Have you tried giving her a bath just before bedtime? That always relaxed you kids. She may want you to rock her in the rocking chair, too, just before bedtime. I'm sure you know all about transitioning before bedtime. Trust your instincts. Mother knows best!
Yeah, I know what you mean with that whole instinct thing. You read the books and they say, follow these steps and this will result. Don't deviate or you'll start from sqaure one. Yadda yadda. I know that's all true and stuff, but I like to factor in parental assessment. I can't always go by the book, because Matthew wasn't made from a book. Sometimes he needs that extra rocking and holding, or the occasional nursing to sleep. As long as you have a good handle on what you're doing, then do whatever you want, sis. You're an awesome mom, and Ari is the proof of that every day.
Love you!
you're a great mother Sara and I am glad that you over-analyzing everything that your baby does because only you are mother can truly know what goes on in their little brains!!
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