Monday, April 29, 2013
Cry It Out
I never expected we'd be crying it out at bedtime this far into things. Six and a half years into it with kid #2, the screeching coming from upstairs would indicate otherwise.
I remember letting my firstborn cry. It nearly ripped my heart out. His desperate sadness was too much to bear. My husband cranked the volume on the TV and urged me to go outside. I insisted on listening and tried not to cry with the baby.
I let the second one cry too. She didn't make me cry, because she wasn't sad. She was pissed. Even as an infant, her first reaction was anger. You could hear the difference in my children's cries. The first was brokenhearted that I didn't come, but the second was aggrieved.
She is still aggrieved.
The best tactic to take with her is to ignore her. Once she reaches fever pitch, you then need to go in to calm her, or she will carry on interminably. Tonight I refused to do the latter. Tonight, I refused to engage. I gave myself a preemptive time out and told her I was done with the bedtime ailments, the getting out of bed, the sassiness, and the anger. I let her cry it out just as I did six years ago, except now she can shout my name and a woeful "Nobody cares about me."
An hour after bedtime, and she has worn herself out. She's also worn me out. The more they grow, the more things stay the same.
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