Hold me closer, tiny sleeper.

Me: No. NO way. I am not doing that.

Husband: But it would make life so much easier if we did. Think of how much we have struggled today.

Me: Listen, I have to hold to what little I have left. I won't do it.

Husband sighs, hangs head and continues packing the car.

Husband: Fine, but what you're asking for is.....

Me: I've said it once and I'll say it again: A mini-van is the death of cool.

We (and when I say "we" I actually mean my husband while I watched and he complained about how much "shit" we had) were packing the car for our ski trip north. And by ski trip I actually mean dining out, watching late night movies and sipping wine by the fire. Oh how I looooove skiing. As usual, our car was cramped and I actually had to choose between bringing my pillow or that extra bag of Doritos. Clearly, the potato chips won. My husband was in full dad mode, grumbling that baby has too many things, that I packed too many clothes, that it's ridiculous for one family to fill a car for just 4 days of travel. Why yes, we had officially turned into my parents. My husband had thrown out the idea that perhaps we should think about getting a mini-van. Hello, what happened to the man who used to make fun of bad mini-van drivers? The one who complained that they were ugly, that they were too big, that the soccer moms who drove them couldn't parallel park? That's right: we were parents now and suddenly priorities such as maintaining some semblance of cool were thrown out the window; Along with watching a full movie without interruption, waking up late on the weekends, and eating without sharing with a nine month old. So now, my once hip husband was suggesting we bite the bullet and get a mini-van. "Besides", he said, "our traveling is going to consist of mostly camping and parks now anyway." Groan....ya, we were those guys now. Goodbye dreams of Fiji. Not that I didn't love the idea of traveling around Canada with my boys. In fact, I look forward to it. I would just rather not do it in a Caravan.
About a week before the packing debacle, my friend's cousin contacted me about the sleep coach. She had, in fact, not used one. Since the sleep coach was going to cost her $4000 and sleep overnight in her house, she thought she could try whatever the sleep coach was going to do instead. Her baby was very similar to the sleepless wonder: up all night and hated taking naps. (She once counted her little one waking up 14 times in one night). She took the suggestion of the coach and slept beside baby on the floor next to the crib. After three exhausting nights, and no progress, she gave up. She had reached her last resort and finally took the suggestion of all the former sleepless moms around her: Ferber.
As she is telling me this, I am silently screaming. No, no, no. Don't tell me Ferber worked. The name itself told me she "cried it out" and I was more than a little apprehensive (and skeptical). "Does she sleep now?" I quietly asked, cringing knowing what her response would be, "Carolyn, it took one night." That's all I needed to hear. I was off to Chapters to read about this Ferber fellow.

Eat, Pray, Sleep.

Me: Err, hello. Yes, my name is Carolyn and a friend of a friend recommended that I contact you. Ummm....our baby doesn't sleep. (Duh,she is a sleep coach. Why else would I be calling?)

Sleep coach (in an Australian accent): Yes well, describe a typical day for you and baby.

Me: Well.... (as baby is screaming in the background. I put him down 20 minutes prior for a nap, thinking this was a good time to try to make a quick call.That little monkey hates it when Mama is on the phone.) As you can hear, this is nap time. Night time is pretty much the same. He sleeps about 2 hours at a time.I'm at my end.(in my best desperation voice, that I don't even really have to fake)

Sleep coach: He's nine months old, right? (I emailed her all my info prior to the phone call) And he's eating solid foods? Oh, No, no, no. That baby should be sleeping. (This is her 'duh' moment.)

Me: Ya, that's kinda why I called......


Australians sleep well, right? I mean, really, who was this woman? Aside from her website that assured, no, guaranteed sleep success, I really had no idea how she was going to get the sleepless wonder to transform, in about five days no less! I couldn't believe it and yet this woman offered us something that we felt we would not see until our baby was off to University: a full night's rest. It seemed too good to be true, but I didn't care. I also didn't care that it was going to cost us some dough-a few hundred dollars, but hell, at this rate I thought I might never be able to work and earn money again (at least not doing anything which required use of about .1% of my brain). A few hundred dollars seemed like a deal. I was willing to pay her to just sit all night with baby just to catch a few zzzzzs.

All this excitement was short lived, however. Her last question to me was direct: "Are you going away in the next couple of months, like on a vacation?" Was she kidding? I had been on EI for 10 months. The only vacay I was looking at was a trip downtown. "No, not at all." I quickly replied. "Are you sure you are not going to be out of your house for any time at all?" she asked again. Oh crap. I was. We were. A weekend ski trip up north. My husband skis. I hot tub. (What? It's hard work!I prune very easily.) The sleep coach was insistent that we could not start any sleep training prior to going away, even if our weekend trip was nearly three weeks away. She implored me to call when I returned, at which time she'll have written our own personal sleep plan that we would implement the next weekend.

I could do another two weeks. Hell, it had been months, what was another two weeks?

Husband: We can't go. That's it. We're not going.

Me: (groaning) Ugh. This isn't new. Nothing has changed. My family knew when they agreed to come with us that baby doesn't sleep. They won't care.

Husband: It's 4am. He's screaming. We can't do this to people.

Me: (groaning) We are not canceling. I'll just sleep with him and when he attempts to cry, I'll whip out my boob, k?

The plan was set: Wait until we return from our mini-vacay and then contact the sleep coach. My family assured us that baby waking up frequently would be no problem (Ah, they lie so well. I love them.) and I was buzzing with anticipation knowing that in less than a month, we could (and I firmly believed we would) have a baby sleeping through the night. I relayed my buzz to my three girlfriends, all of whom have little babies of their own. One of them piped in, "Hmmm....my cousin hired a sleep coach, I think. I'm not sure if it went so well. Why don't I contact her and get some info for you?" It couldn't hurt. We still had another week to go before we left the city.

A series of emails and phone conversations that would follow changed everything......

And I have miles to go before I sleep.

Me: (speaking into the big brown eyes of baby) If you nap, just once today, I promise when you are 16 you can borrow your father's Metropass and head into the city. Because, let me assure you, with the price of insurance and the immaturity of young males, not to mention peer pressure and the rush to go too fast, and well, that's just a combination I am not entirely comfortable with, and I really don't think, scratch that, I know you won't be allowed to drive until your at least 18. Hmmm...maybe 19.....

Baby: Waaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!

Me: Crap.

Negotiating with a baby is about as useful as opening a bag of dill pickle Lays and swearing you're only going to eat a handful and then close the bag up. Ya right. Since I knew that napping and sleeping better at night were so closely linked, I vowed to get baby to nap, and nap long. As it stood, he was the master of the 25 minute snooze. I had read that any nap less than an hour didn't really count as a nap because the necessary sleep cycles were not met.I had become a bit obsessive about the whole thing. The way I saw it was if I could achieve this victory, then a full nights sleep would soon be on it's way. Not to mention, I was so beyond sick and tired of rushing through a shower, hurrying through my mascara, and barely doing my hair. I may not have been sleeping, but dammit, I still wanted to resemble at least some part of my former self-the one that thought 8 hours sleep was just right, but could easily sleep 9 hours if she could.

Since the call to the sleep coach had yet to made, we really only had the bum sooshing to get us by. However, it's effect was waning and was the least useful at naps. I decided to use the power of the internet and I searched out several methods.

1. Gently put your baby in the crib. Say goodnight, I love you. Baby will slowly drift asleep on their own.

Was this a joke?? No, really. What sick fool thought of this? I snorted, but still gave it a shot. Baby screamed and screamed. I took a shower. I even took a few extra minutes, just to be sure. I got out of the shower. Baby was still screaming. This was torture and went against all the attachment parenting we had instilled in baby. Who said babies could only cry for 25 minutes before they tire and fall asleep? I call B.S on that little theory. If anything, the crying became louder and more desperate the longer I sat outside his room.

2. Place your arm in the crib to make baby feel secure. When baby is asleep, gently remove your arm.

First of all, there is nothing "gentle" about any movement made by me. Although I might think I am being stealth like in my actions, baby senses it nonetheless. And believe me, after standing over a crib with one arm in, that evidently is turning blue from lack of circulation, being gentle is not an option. As such, blue arm and all, I would become even more angered about having wasted my time.

3. Sit in the room with baby so he can see you. Put your back to him and do not respond to him. Slowly move closer and closer to the door. Baby will eventually fall asleep.

Ah yes. Torture device #3. I think I actually felt a soother hit the back of my head at one point. Yep, not one stitch of progress.

So how long did I do each of these suggestions before moving on? Well, that depended on my mood or my patience level that day. In the end, I often caved, and picked him up, or nursed him, or let him cry, or forgot nap time all together and canceled my plans for the afternoon. Wasn't napping supposed to be natural? I mean, I was tired. I could nap anytime, anywhere. Hell, before baby, I actually suspected I was part feline. I had to nap after coming home from work. Isn't that genetic?
I suppose I should have stuck with one method, for a longer period of time. I didn't have this epiphany until much later. C'mon now. I've raised how many children in my life? I just kind of expected baby to take on the same lazy sleep routine as our pup, Charlie. She's so into sleep she actually gets annoyed in the morning when you try to walk her.

I had to make the sleep coach call. I had to be told what to do. I had to be reminded that our child was not a brown Toy Poodle.

S.L.E.E.P Find out what it means to me!

Me: We need help.

Husband: I know, I know. Listen, I've been thinking about what is was like when we were dating and maybe I was bit more of a romantic back then...

Me: (wrinkles brow in confusion) Wait, no. Not "us". And yes, you were more romantic back then. I meant, we need help with baby.

Husband: Right, that's what I thought you were talking about.

We had had enough. Waking up every 2 hours for the past 3 months had finally taken it's toll and I was now willing to pay for some much needed baby sleep. I suppose the breaking point had been when my husband went on a business trip for a week. I was alone with baby, something I had done before and believe me, I give huge props to single moms. Yep, I can say with certainty that I couldn't do this alone. Husband was away, baby wasn't sleeping and I kind of, sort of had a little bit of an itsy bitsy breakdown. Ok, I had a big breakdown. By day three, I felt desperate, alone and completely at a loss for what to do. I mean, isn't sleep deprivation on a list of "things to do" to get a hoodlum to fess up to a crime? In fact, I would have admitted to a misdemeanor I didn't commit if it meant that I could shack up in jail for the night. I had no idea I depended so much on another set of hands to help (to her credit,my mom is usually here 24/7 in such situations but she was recovering from surgery; serious bad timing on our part). My husband, frantic that his wife was going to hide in a closet and not leave for the duration of his trip, called every woman in our family asking them for their support. I was totally embarrassed (hey, I might be willing to pay a complete stranger for help, but am a little more reluctant admitting total sleep failure/breakdown to my own fam) and knew that the time for serious sleep help (no more bum patting, sooooshing here!) had come. We decided to call a sleep coach. At this point, I was willing to dish out some cash for sleep. I kind of wish Russel Oliver would offer some sort of deal "I'm the sleep man...."