We've really settled into a nice hour-long bedtime routine. Snack, wash up, quiet playtime and quick tidy, books and story time, into bed. Once we're in bed Dylan nurses and I usually hum to him or rub his back and belly. Then, he flops around a little attempting to get comfy but inevitably ends up right back on the breast. At this point he's so close to sleep it's comical.
On most nights he'll nurse for a minute or two more while I scratch his head and he rubs my side (because he can't reach my back), just the way I've rubbed his every night for the past 14 months. Finally, he pulls away and falls asleep. Sometimes he mumbles 'Dada' or 'Mama,' other times he'll sigh the sweetest sigh just before he surrenders to his sub-conscious and drifts off into the land of dreams.
At this point I usually alternate between giving him little kisses on his forehead and dutifully searching the top of his head for the illusive "baby smell" that just yesterday dominated his entire being. Once I'm sure he's asleep I roll out of bed and tiptoe away feeling clear-headed and calm, and so connected to my baby. Man, am I going to miss those moments.
When Daddy is part of the bedtime routine Dylan is usually eager to play no matter how tired he is. On these occasions, he will pull pillows on top of himself giggling, get himself tangled in the sheets, lurch toward the edge of the bed with complete disregard for objects or people that stand between him and the living room, and most recently, get himself worked up doing somersaults and cackling like a hyena.
He's a pro at getting us to play along with his games too. We generally try to maintain a cool, calm, and positive demeanor at bedtime so Dylan will consider it a pleasant and easy thing to do and hopefully mimic our behavior. But on those rare nights when he wants to play instead of sleep there really is no stopping him. Try as we might to maintain our cool and pretend to sleep, we all eventually burst out laughing hysterically after several minutes of Dylan's trying to get our attention with the most hilarious movements and sounds ever uttered and us choking back laughter and exchanging back and forth "Did you see that? This kid is insane. What did he just do? How on Earth did he make that noise? Was that the sound of his head on your hipbone? If he does that one more time I'm going to lose it." glances.
It's times like these when we have to ask ourselves Is it really worth making a stink about him not going to bed at exactly the same time every night? To us, it is a resounding no. At the end of the night what it amounts to is the baby going to bed an hour later than usual, in a wonderful mood, and both of his parents sore to the core from laughing so hard. What's so bad about that? Therein lies the beauty of attachment parenting in our house.
The alternative, letting him "cry it out" in a crib, probably to the point of throwing up or gagging, until he is beet red, tears streaming down his face, so physically and emotionally exhausted that he passes out, defeated, never has been and never will be an option in our household. No article in Time magazine, or any other publication could convince me that those things are okay for any amount of time.
In the former scenario, all parties are in good spirits at the end of the ordeal. Needless to say, in the latter scenario, the baby is distraught or at the very least unhappy and the parents inevitably feel guilty and may have even shed a few tears themselves listening to their baby scream because they were told or they read that attachment parenting is "weird" or that they might "spoil" their [naturally] dependent child.
For our family, the fun sometimes continues long after bedtime. Dylan is a sleep walker (sleep sitter upper?). After having been fast asleep for hours he will sit straight up, mumble a little and briefly rub his hands on the bed before plopping face first back onto the mattress. As long as Thomas and I can keep our giggling under control, that is. More often than not one of us will let slip a snort of laughter and Dylan sort of snaps out of it and demands to be nursed back to sleep. This kid is irresistibly funny; he makes us laugh until our stomach hurts every day and honestly, I can't imagine a better way to maintain a six-pack.
Do I know for sure how long I will co-sleep or breastfeed my baby? No, I do not. What I do know is that I will do it for as long as it works for my family and if it turns out that my son is three or four years old when it stops working, so be it. Don't expect me to apologize for privately breastfeeding my toddler and I won't ask you to apologize for letting your toddler scream himself to sleep behind a closed door on the other side of the house.
If you think I'm "weird" for responding to my baby's cries as a rule, nourishing him the way nature intended, like all mammals do, or cuddling him close all night instead of isolating him in a separate bed in another part of the house, then by all means whisper to your neighbor, gossip with your girlfriend, hell, shout it from the roof tops, I'll join you! Because I'm over the moon about all of these things and so is my husband, and as far as I can tell, so is my baby boy, and at the end of the day, that's all that counts.
