Last night I lost count of the number of times I said that to myself.
Gus slept peacefully in his crib for two hours.
He spent the next hour and a half screaming, and begging, to be taken out of his tiny little hell.
I stayed with him, tried to calm him down. Tried to lay him down (that was an even bigger mistake) and finally got him some juice (all that screaming makes you thirsty).
At 1 am I got him to lay down with his juice and his stuffed animals and he fell back asleep on his own.
For thirty minutes.
Then cue more screaming.
This cycle repeated a while, until I finally decided to leave his room (or I was going to give in and just let him sleep with me).
He fell asleep again, for another 45 minutes. I went back in after he woke up and he laid down easily (he was exhausted too I’m sure) and he asked me to trace his face, and was asleep in like two seconds.
Then, I swear to god, he laughed in his sleep for five minutes. But it was like, a maniacal, villainous laugh. Like, “Ohhh, you’ll rue the day you put me in this crib, Mother. RUE THE DAY,” kind of laugh.
He slept from 4:15 to 7:15, and when he woke up that time (when we’d usually get up for the day) I let him come lay with me in his room.
We woke up almost three hours later.
I never tried to sleep train when he was a baby, because I could never stand to let him cry. I will say, doing it now is a little easier only because I know for sure that he’s crying because he’s mad at me, and not hurt/hungry, etc. The flip side to that though, is now he screams actual words like, “MOMMM HEEEEELP!” and that takes its toll after awhile.
I’m definitely not looking forward to tonight, but at least now I know what to expect.
The good news? He does appear to still love me this morning, so that’s good. He’s his normal little playful, friendly self, so it doesn’t seem like I’ve done any sort of irreversible psychological damage to him (to myself is still TBD).