I Love You, Burp Cloth
Abbie has a set bedtime routine where we do the exact same things in the exact same order every single night. Mostly we do this for her benefit as a way of signaling to her that it’s time to wind down and prepare for sleep since she’s still too young to understand when we say, “it’s time to wind down and prepare for sleep.” Partially we do this identical infinitely repeating routine for my benefit since I’m wiped by the time we reach her bedtime, and if I don’t have a step-by-step routine I can follow without thinking I’m liable to do something dangerous like shutting the dog in Abbie’s room and Abbie in the dog’s kennel for the night, or possibly even putting her to bed without brushing her teeth.
Her routine ends with me turning off the bedroom light, singing, and wishing her goodnight before leaving the room and shutting her door behind me for hopefully the next ten hours. Usually the routine is peaceful or at least quiet as the worst she normally does instead of winding down is run about the room while I sing frantically searching for an exit, a toy, a book, or anything that would prevent her from going to sleep. The other night though, she started screaming as soon as I turned off the light, and I mean furious, wandering the room, banging her head on the floor in frustration screaming. This was unusual since she generally waits until I’ve left the room and she’s climbed onto something and can’t get down before she starts screaming. I figured it was just a reluctance to go to bed combined with aggravation that I hadn’t paid enough attention to her for the day, so I continued with the routine and sang to her because singing always calms her down.
Singing didn’t calm her down. When I finished my song and she was still screaming, I sat in silence staring at her for a couple minutes, but that didn’t calm her down either. After reassuring words failed as well, I left the room and figured she’d wear herself out eventually. I had important websites to read anyway, what with the NFL draft approaching. Before retiring to the computer, I asked Ellie, who was taking a shower, to check on her when she was done.
Abbie continued throwing a tantrum until Ellie opened her door to check on her. Within a couple minutes, the screaming stopped and Abbie was on her way to sleep. I wanted to know how Ellie calmed her, but I was only on number 12 of my research into the draft’s top 25 defensive backs, and by the time I finished Ellie was asleep for the night.
The next day I discovered that the secret to making Abbie fall asleep is burp clothes. She had no burp clothes in her room, which explained the wandering and frustration. I forgot that Abbie always brings a burp cloth to bed with her, or several burp clothes if she can find them. It’s not uncommon to find her curled up in bed with her giant stuffed puppy supporting one side, a mound of a dozen burp clothes supporting the other side, and her pillow and blanket tossed to the side or onto the floor if necessary. She’s slept with a burp cloth in her bed for every nap since she was old enough to pull those burp clothes into her crib after we left them draped over the railing to air dry them after she soaked them with spit-up.
Abbie never latched onto a favorite comfort item like favorite stuffed animal, favorite toy, or favorite dust bunny, so I didn’t even think that she needed a burp cloth to fall asleep. Now I’ve added, “check for a burp cloth” to the nightly routine. It comes right before “ensure that Abbie and the dog are on the correct sides of the door after I leave her room.”
Her routine ends with me turning off the bedroom light, singing, and wishing her goodnight before leaving the room and shutting her door behind me for hopefully the next ten hours. Usually the routine is peaceful or at least quiet as the worst she normally does instead of winding down is run about the room while I sing frantically searching for an exit, a toy, a book, or anything that would prevent her from going to sleep. The other night though, she started screaming as soon as I turned off the light, and I mean furious, wandering the room, banging her head on the floor in frustration screaming. This was unusual since she generally waits until I’ve left the room and she’s climbed onto something and can’t get down before she starts screaming. I figured it was just a reluctance to go to bed combined with aggravation that I hadn’t paid enough attention to her for the day, so I continued with the routine and sang to her because singing always calms her down.
Singing didn’t calm her down. When I finished my song and she was still screaming, I sat in silence staring at her for a couple minutes, but that didn’t calm her down either. After reassuring words failed as well, I left the room and figured she’d wear herself out eventually. I had important websites to read anyway, what with the NFL draft approaching. Before retiring to the computer, I asked Ellie, who was taking a shower, to check on her when she was done.
Abbie continued throwing a tantrum until Ellie opened her door to check on her. Within a couple minutes, the screaming stopped and Abbie was on her way to sleep. I wanted to know how Ellie calmed her, but I was only on number 12 of my research into the draft’s top 25 defensive backs, and by the time I finished Ellie was asleep for the night.
The next day I discovered that the secret to making Abbie fall asleep is burp clothes. She had no burp clothes in her room, which explained the wandering and frustration. I forgot that Abbie always brings a burp cloth to bed with her, or several burp clothes if she can find them. It’s not uncommon to find her curled up in bed with her giant stuffed puppy supporting one side, a mound of a dozen burp clothes supporting the other side, and her pillow and blanket tossed to the side or onto the floor if necessary. She’s slept with a burp cloth in her bed for every nap since she was old enough to pull those burp clothes into her crib after we left them draped over the railing to air dry them after she soaked them with spit-up.
Abbie never latched onto a favorite comfort item like favorite stuffed animal, favorite toy, or favorite dust bunny, so I didn’t even think that she needed a burp cloth to fall asleep. Now I’ve added, “check for a burp cloth” to the nightly routine. It comes right before “ensure that Abbie and the dog are on the correct sides of the door after I leave her room.”
posted by Matt at
10:50 PM
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