Sleep Atkins

Last night, it took Miss Dub ONE HOUR of sad, pathetic, heartbreaking crying to fall asleep. 60 minutes, people. 3,600 seconds. Or in Mom Time, forever.

But I’m realizing that sleep training is a lot like weight loss.

When I was obese, the thought of losing so much weight was daunting. Giving up yummy treats and counting calories did not sound like fun. So I basically convinced myself that it was impossible to lose weight; that I was genetically wired to hold onto weight despite my best efforts. And while there was some truth to that in my case, the real culprit, of course, was that I lacked willpower. Nevertheless, I would try for a few days or a week and stop when I didn’t get dramatic results. I would whine and complain and say it was too hard. Everyone else had it easier, I reasoned. Losing weight just wasn’t as tough for them.

So I fixated on a magical alternative, some other way to lose weight that was easy, fast and painless. Thankfully, I didn’t get caught up in the web of Atkins and South Beach and cabbage soup because I’m so lazy and carb-addicted that even those sounded too intense. But I can see how women bounce from specialized diet to diet with yo-yoing weight in between all because the rudimentary concept of eating less and exercising more is just plain tedious.

Same goes for sleep training. I’d try and try with Miss Dub to get her to sleep, but never once let her truly cry it out after she was an infant. Once her cries began to resemble words – “Mom, why do you hate me?” – it was too much. I’d go a few minutes and cave. Rather than admit my weakness, I told myself crying it out was inhumane. That it worked for other people because their babies weren’t as smart or aware as my child. That Miss Dub was emotionally scarred by the behavior. So I fixated on other ways and other methods, but while those magically promised few tears, they also required a long list of specific behaviors to get results. And my lazy self never could follow all of them so sleeplessness prevailed.

Like weight loss, I eventually reached a breaking point. It eventually dawned on me that millions of people had done this. That while it was hard, it was possible. And if I stuck to it, there was no way I could fail. I just had to see it through.

Well, I’m now down 60 pounds and eating better is a habit so it seems easy, though I’ve definitely laxed in some areas and need to lose another 5 pounds and get toned before I claim victory. And, of course, I’ll always have to be vigilant because the slightest thing can set me off course since I’m an emotional eater.

Miss Dub isn’t close to the finish line, either, but I keep reminding myself that it’s out there. We made it through a whole day of sleep training and she didn’t die, though she did poop her pants. I didn’t cave. And even though I lost sleep, I feel more rested because I feel hope.

Still, it’s terribly hard, but I just keep reminding myself of those first few days of eating better. You’re so hungry that you think it’s inhumane. You’re so cranky that you think it’s impossible. You’re so annoyed that you don’t want to do it. But a few days later, you realize that you’re satisfied with less food and feel better in general. And it dawns on you that it’s not that hard; that you can get results if you stick with it.

So I’m sticking with it.

But it would be nice to know how long this took for all of you. (??)

(‘Cause I’m lazy like that.)