We all like to think we're getting this parenting thing down, right? Yet it always seems that just when relief settles in, the babes throw us a curve ball, no? Am I the only one this so consistently happens to? For our little family of 4-1/2, such is the case with the Goodnight Grab Bag, which I elatedly wrote up a week or two ago after it got my "jack-in-the-box" three-and-a-half-year-old to sleep allllll the way through the night, in his own bed. Until, that is, he became desensitized to the fabulousness that is the cheep, Chinese-made dollar store toy.
It started, of course, a couple of days after I posted Total Genius: Goodnight Grab Bag. H woke up in the morning, excited to dig into the grab bag, pulled out a water frisbee, and said, "Can I pick something else?" Me: "No, sorry Honey, that's not how the grab bag works. This is going to be sooo much fun at the pool!" And it was. But the seeds of expectation and disappointment were already sowed. . .
Around 6:45 AM, H bounced out of bed and half-whined, since he knew it was questionable, "Can we do goodnight grab bag?" L parroted "Gwad bawg!" and ran to the hall closet where we kept it. He'd been callously excluded from the morning ritual for the past two weeks, but now he was demanding his place, and if anyone deserved a gift for good sleep habits, it was him. I reluctantly ponied up two dollar store items, reflecting that my $7 weekly investment had now doubled to $14. H was again disappointed, this time by a malfunctioning helicopter shooter. As it whizzed roughly 16 inches into the air, H's disgust with the quality of the merchandise was palpable. "Can we pick something elseeee," he whined, again. Little Lou was thrilled to have something, anything at all. I caught myself wondering why H couldn't just be satisfied like sweet Little Lou.
And that is when I had one of those stellar parenting lightning bolt moments: I realized I had been parenting for almost two years as if I had only one child. And I remembered that actual parenting (you know, stuff other than keeping the child clean and snuggled and fed, like setting limits, teaching manners and empathy--which I could have clearly used a refresher course on), kicked in with H around age 2 as well. Further, I realized I was tired of giving my son plastic crap he didn't appreciate, and that I didn't want him, or his brother, or his other brother (it's another BOY!), to become habituated to expecting material rewards, however pitiful and disappointing, for following my rules. Especially given that Little Lou had now stepped up to remind me that whatever I do for Huck, I must do roughly equivalent for each subsequent sibling. Goodnight Grab Bag had to stop. Fair and equitable treatment had to start. Now.
Well, two weeks later, I must say, we've had some ups and downs. It's been an adjustment for all of us. With #3 on the way, I am resolved, finally, to treating my children if not the same, equitably, and that means trying really, really hard to do nothing for one that I would find burdensome for all three. We put our foot down with Huck: sorry, we love you to pieces, but you're not allowed in our bed at night--you really need to sleep in your own room. No matter what the time or how tired we are, we return H to his own bed when he tries to get into ours, and his visits are becoming much less frequent. Little Lou is following suit, and in a few weeks, in anticipation of the new babe, we're moving them into the same room to keep each other company.
So no, this isn't the fast track miracle solution I'd been hoping for, but I do think it's a more lasting one, and one that won't cost me $21 dollars a week (or a thousand dollars a year!) for three kids. Here's what Goodnight Grab Bag did do for us, however: it illustrated that H's night waking habits were, in fact, by and large under his control. It showed us, and him (we've brought this up in many conversations about sleeping in his own room), that he could, if motivated, sleep all the way through the night. It underlined the fact that Huck has my number, and that yes, even a three-year-old (or maybe especially a three-year-old) is capable of manipulating situations to his advantage. And ultimately, it gave us the confidence and resolve to simply put our foot (feet?) down on some pretty simple house rules.
Wish me luck getting the big boys sleeping before the little one comes along, Mamas!