Crib Notes

Two-year-olds rarely say things that totally change your world. My daughter, for example, has learned to say "poopy butt" thanks to her brother. But one day recently, she woke up and informed Belle that "my bed is too high."

Her "bed" was a crib and her declaration marked the end of an era: eight years, five sheets, three kids, two mattress covers, thousands of nights of Belle and I standing over the crib's front railing, sometimes rubbing backs, many times just pleading with a baby to JUST GO TO SLEEP.

I built the crib in the spring of 2015, trying to make myself useful in Belle's third trimester before our oldest arrived. Each time we put a newborn in the crib for the first time, the baby looked like a raft in the ocean. And each time, it was hard to believe that one day, not too far away, they would look like a yacht in a backyard swimming pool.

I assumed parenting would be a day-to-day adventure filled with highs and lows. What I was less prepared for was the night-to-night roller coaster. The morning I'm writing this sentence, for example, my almost-5-year-old son came to our room twice between 3 a.m. and 4 a.m. so I could tuck him back in after he went to the bathroom.

To be fair, all of our kids were pretty good sleepers when we first put them into the crib. When other parents asked how any of the babies were sleeping, I always felt a little bad saying they slept 10 hours straight, especially if the other parents described being up all night with their children. But there is no better feeling as a parent of a baby than waking up in the morning slightly confused after a night of uninterrupted sleep and realizing your child did not wake up once. (What I wouldn't give for a night like that today.)

After experimenting with a bassinet with our eldest upon returning from the hospital, we put our other kids in the crib as soon as we came home. I have spent seemingly half my life on a nursery room floor, waiting to help with a diaper change or teeth brushing before a baby was put in or returned to the crib. There is no look as precious as a baby in a milk coma, a punim that recharges you as a parent and melts away any frustration from the day.

Eventually, and unfortunately, all babies hit a sleep regression. For our eldest daughter, it was when she would no longer be swaddled for bedtime. I do remember at least one night where I drove her around in her car seat until she passed out, then brought the car seat into our room. She would require back rubs or someone to sit in her room until she fell asleep; good luck trying to tiptoe out if she were still awake.

We got her a toddler bed for a change of scenery but she refused to use it. She did use a sleeping mat, so long as I was lying next to her, starting around age 2. Almost every night, I would spend at least 30 minutes in her room, until she would fall asleep. And, almost every night, she would come into our room to sleep in our bed. Belle and I knew we shouldn't have let her but, when it was 2 a.m. and we were already sleep-deprived, we just hoped she would grow out of this stage quickly. We didn't expect it would take almost three years.

Belle will never let me forget the time, when our son was home for his first night, she found me fast asleep next to our daughter while she was waiting for me to help with his bedtime. (NOTE: I originally started the preceding sentence as, "One night, soon after we brought our son home..." She read that and was angry at me for forgetting and also angry at me again for falling asleep.) When he was a few months old, I was on the floor in his nursery with him early one morning, trying to coax him back to sleep. I put him on his stomach and he passed out, and that was the day he became a stomach sleeper in his crib, a position everyone advises against. Thankfully, child protective services never came for us, and he slept well in the crib until we moved him to his "big boy" bed before our youngest was born.

By that point, our older children were pros at sleeping in their beds. Our biggest concern was making sure our youngest didn't wake them up with her crying for her middle-of-the-night feedings and they didn't wake her up in the morning as they moved around upstairs like a herd of elephants. When our youngest realized she could stand up in her crib in the morning, our older kids would enjoy climbing into her crib, leaving us wondering why they couldn't have been as enthusiastic being in there when they were her age.

The weekend after our youngest announced her bed was too high, she watched as a I took apart the crib and then was excited when we brought the toddler bed into her room. She put her stuffed animals and dolls on one end and gleefully flung herself on the mattress. Most nights, she lays down and, with a few back rubs, sleeps through the night. More recently, however, there have been nights where she needed a longer back rub and for me to sit with her until she falls asleep.

Part of me enjoys this quiet time, knowing this will be my last chance to do this and, in just a few years, the only time I'll be with my kids while they're sleeping is when I'm trying to drag them out of bed so they get ready for school. Watching your child fall asleep peacefully, feeling safe and secure because you are next to them, reminds you of the joy and fulfillment of being a parent.

But then you remember that, once you get downstairs, there are dishes to clean and toys to put away and probably a night of being awakened for some reason. And you can think only one thing: Poopy butt. 

Who needs sleep?

When my wife and I tell people we have a 10-month-old son and 46-month-old daughter, the first reaction we get is confusion as people convert in their heads 46 months into years. The second reaction is a question that haunts all parents:

"How are they sleeping?"

The answer inevitably requires a paragraph where the questioner might have been expecting to hear a number. For me, the question also causes a bit of embarrassment, especially if the questioner also is a parent, because both of our kids, since early ages, were never up every two hours. Both, in fact, were sleeping through the night by the time they were three months.

If I'm talking to an up-every-two-hour parent, the conversation dynamic dramatically changes; it's as if I told the other person we have the same job but I make twice as much. I immediately try to soften the blow.

"It gets better," I'll say. "We got lucky."

I'm a believer that you can't judge others' parenting skills because you never know the full picture. (I try to remind myself of this as I'm judging others' parenting skills.) But I sincerely try to withhold all judgment when it comes to children and sleep. Because just as there are no atheists in foxholes, there is no wrong answer when it's 2 a.m. and your kid won't fall asleep.

(Note: What follows is my best recollection of various things related to my kids' sleeping. I was only half-awake when a lot of this happened, after all.)

We put both of our newborns in the cribs in their rooms almost as soon as we got home from the hospital. While our daughter quickly took to it, our son never quite seemed comfortable. But then early one morning, I took him out of his crib and lay with him on the floor for tummy time and noticed how calm he was and then how he was falling asleep.

("STOP RIGHT THERE!!" I hear some of you parents saying, knowing where this is going. "You might as well wrap the kid in crib bumpers if you let him sleep on his stomach!")

We quickly realized he would go down easier and sleep longer when he was on his stomach. So we got one of those crib monitors that tracks his breathing and we never looked back (ha!). Sure, he's got the rounded head of a baby twice his age, and the mobile we got for his crib is kind of a waste. But we're rarely up in the middle of the night anymore.

Unless our daughter comes into mom and dad's room, that is.

("STOP RIGHT THERE!!" I hear some of you parents saying, knowing where this is going. "Are you going to like it when she's 18 and crawling into your bed?")

For two years, our bed was the only one she would sleep in -- she decided a sleeping mat on her bedroom floor was more comfortable then her bed. My wife was concerned she would have back issues. I was more concerned with my own back issues because I would lay on the floor with her until she fell asleep.

There were nights I would spend almost an hour on the floor with her. My patience would be rewarded a few hours later, when she came into our room and wanted to come in our bed. We've co-slept with her in hotels and on vacation out of convenience and, in some ways, the earlier in the night she came into our bedroom, the more uninterrupted sleep we would get.

Her bed issues began in our old house, and we figured we could change her sleeping habits when we moved into our new house. We painted her new room pink, got her a mattress fit for a princess and covered it in unicorn sheets. We made everyone in the family talk up her new Big Girl Bed and put one of those guardrails on the side.

And that first night in the new house she excitedly climbed into her new bed and quickly fell asleep after I gave her a kiss goodnight. Just kidding! She refused to sleep in her bed for another year. Until one night, when I told her daddy could no longer sleep on the floor and I gave her two options: I'll sit in a chair while you are on the floor or I will lay in bed with you until you fall asleep.

I nearly passed out when she agreed to go to her bed. Today, I still need to lay with her but only for a few minutes most nights, and she loves her bed.

Years from now, we'll probably look back fondly on all of this. (My parents still remind me that I slept on the floor with my head in the hallway when I was a toddler.) Today, though, we take sleep one night at a time.

Or one morning at a time. As I write this, it's 6:30 a.m. and our son, who just nursed and should be asleep for at least the next 90 minutes, is wailing.

I just hope he doesn't wake up our daughter while she sleeps in our bed.