Thursday, February 19, 2009

Afraid of the Dark

The night is a scary time; the boogey-man comes out and monsters lurk in the closets. I hate to admit it, but I'm a little afraid of the dark. Its amazing how I enjoy sitting in my house on a windy day watching the palm trees sway in the wind. But as night falls I hide in bed worrying about the noises on the roof. The same applies to burglars. During the day I rarely worry about the door being locked. I have even accidentally left the door ajar as I ran down to preschool to get the boys. But at night I double-check every window and door and panic a tad when the motion detector comes on.

So when I set out to wean William from his pacifier after the sun had set I was worried. I was afraid of all night crying while I tried to get the other three children to sleep. Did I mention that Alexander believes that I am his own personal bed at night? He is only happy if we are rocking in the pink chair aka: prison. I didn't really plan on weaning from the pacifier. It just occurred to me. I realized that we were just delaying the inevitable. So I set out to 'disappear' the pacifier on a day when I was home alone with the kiddos.

The afternoon was pretty easy as I was just able to distract him with a snack, tv show, or playing a game. But evening rolled around, that's when it got scary. I tried prepping the family for what would happen. I told Lainy Ann to be prepared for lots of crying and I told Connor that if the noise got too bad he would be able to sleep in Lainy Ann's room.

Much to my surprise it was the older kids who were the problem. Just as I would get William settled down one of the big kids would start playing with toys, talking with me or complaining about the special treatment William was getting. Which in turn would mean starting all over with the calming and soothing. We called Grandma who gave him a pep talk about being a 'big boy'. I told him his pa-pa was hiding. It broke my heart when he said, "no pa-pa hide. Go get from hide". I gave him a new stuffed toy to sleep with, he threw it. It was rough going.

But here it is the next morning and I am wondering why I didn't do it sooner. One night of fussing for 90 minutes was worth him sleeping through the night. And now that the sun is up and we are through the first night it doesn't seem as daunting or scary.

Maybe I will tackle poop-training next . . . . .

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