I can totally see why sleep deprivation is used as a form of torture. Yesterday I gave out way more than just my name, rank and serial number! This country should be glad I don't know any more than the details about Brittany Spears' sister, or I would have absolutely spilled them.
We're still playing with the method to get Jack to sleep at night. I hate hate hate putting him on his belly, which is the only place I've ever gotten more than 2 hours of sleep. So every night I start off strong with a new plan, and then it deteriorates into weeping and stripping him of blankets and putting him on his belly and then angst the whole time.
Three nights ago, he went 3.5 hours on his belly. Then I switched him to his side and got 2.5 hours, 2 hours, 2 hours. Totally liveable.
Two nights ago, it took thirteen tries to get him to stay asleep after we put him down in the crib. Then he really didn't sleep anything continuous until 6 am. So I slept 6 am to 7:45 when Nate refused to let anyone but me take him out of his crib. Yay. Finally a Mama's boy, just at the wrong time!
At the pediatrician's suggestion, I tried having him sleep in his carseat, in his crib. Did the nightime routine, swaddled him, got him snug in the carseat with a paci. Eyes drowsy, so I left. 10 minutes later he's awake crying. Repeat above. Wakes up crying. Repeat above...silence. More silence. He slept from 10:30 to 3 am. I had been smart and gone to bed at 11:30, so I probably got 3 straight hours of sleep. Miracle.
After the 3 am wakeup, he went 3:30 to 6, and then 6:30 to 8. I feel fabulous.
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