One woman's perspective of (twin) parenting (and other thoughts about things)
Friends, it finally happened.
I finished a book.
This book, specifically, that you may or may not remember me saying I bought nearly a year ago. The one about being an introvert mother that remained largely unread because of dealing with the consequences of being an introvert mother…
Anyway, I finished it.
Huge!
Feeling very proud of self.
Anyway, right at the end of this book (pp. 217-218 if you’re interested), the author writes a beautiful letter to “The Mom of That Kid” - the Mom who screams, who ‘messes up’ and has to apologise, the Mom whose child doesn’t conform, eat or behave - signed from Another Mom of That Kid (AKA the author herself).
It made me cry.
In it is written a line that sets the tone for this blog post:
“…there’s no way you’re going to get this right. Because there’s no one way to get it right.”
Today, I have decided, is the day I write about my battles with the Smols’ sleep.
I wrote some (many) months ago that I don’t want to write any call to arms posts, and I think this one might veer dangerously close to that. However, it is probably, if I’m totally honest with myself, a call to myself to take up arms against myself. Or something. And if it’s helpful for other people to read as well, then all the better.
So, sleep.
The internet is really very full of people promising solutions for your children’s sleep problems. Are they waking up early? It’s simple! You’re putting them to bed too late! You’re putting them to bed too early! It’s too light in their room! It’s too dark in their room! It’s too noisy! It’s too quiet! It’s simple! Just read my book- No! Read my book- NO! READ MINE!
Do you know what all of these solutions have in common? They are all based on evidence.
But here’s the thing: science isn’t tidy, or even if it is, it certainly ceases to be so once it’s co-opted to sell books, or worse, a dream of perfection. Scientific conclusions are complicated, they are contextual (“this child fell asleep when we did this thing, but also they were well rested, well fed and didn’t have a snotty nose”), and it’s this wider context that goes out of the window when you’re trying to sell someone a dream in a pithy Instagram post.
So, yeah. Sleep scientists, and/or those who quote them, I see you and I see your fascinating work, and I see that understanding stuff is awesome, but for my own sanity I’m calling BS on the clear lines you draw between your findings and my toddlers. Because, in reality, they just don’t exist. There are just too many variables that you have conveniently decided to ignore for the sake of a strapline.
You’ll note at this point that the category of pithy Instagram posts I’m not even touching with a bargepole are the Mums Who’ve Got It All Worked Out: “My child sleeps 27 hours a night, and if you just did this one simple thing yours would too!”
…just no. Either you’re lying or you’ve got lucky. Neither of these helps me.
Anyway, let’s talk specifics about our particular battles with sleep and the Smols.
Here are things we have tried/adopted as part of our approach to sleep/naps:
NB all of these things - all of them - have been successful and unsuccessful at different times.
Here, also, is a list of sleep-affecting things that ‘sleep experts’ tend to add as disclaimers in small print (“of course, your LO might just have a poorly tummy in which case all bets are off! Extra Mummy cuddles are the only solution! *cute giggle*”):
Any of that sound familiar? Like at least 5 of those apply on any given day?
And finally, here are the different ways we have described the Smols:
Because sometimes, suddenly, we hit upon a magical formula and we have a few days or weeks of Good Sleep. But then, just as suddenly, it all goes out the window and we find ourselves desperately trying to work out what the New Answer is.
I’ll end with an illustration of this exact point:
Most recently, we decided that one of us would sit in the dark with the Smols whilst they settled. They didn’t need us there, but it was easier than standing sentry outside their nursery for up to (sometimes over) an hour whilst they repeatedly got out of bed and had to be put back, which is the situation we somehow found ourselves in. As a friend put it “it sounds like they are not ready for the day to end rather than having an emotional need for presence”. It was going well - I was enjoying the quiet time too, and I felt like my attempt at mindful calmness was having a positive effect; they were settling quickly and without much fuss.
And then, they weren’t. After a couple of weeks, the sitting-with-them approach became as stressful as the standing-sentry approach and we were back to square one.
So a few days ago, when I was doing a solo bedtime, I decided to put my own needs for down time first, and left them to it. Their bedroom and the bits of the corridor they have access to are all largely child-safe, so I figured I’d just let them run around if they wanted to and I would come downstairs and they’d work it out and I’d go back up in a bit to tuck them back in.
It worked well.
Ah hah, I thought, I have found the New Answer.
The next night we tried it again. This time, about 15 minutes in, there was screaming. They had gotten into a row about a toy and bitten each other. One hard enough to draw blood.
Oh.
My husband spent another hour going through the bedtime routine again and was back to the sitting in the dark approach.
I genuinely don’t know what we’ll end up opting for tonight.
But I think this latest drama was probably the final push I needed to let go of my sleep obsession. To let go, with the help of Jamie’s letter, of my undying belief that there is a right answer, even if it changes sometimes. I just have to find it.
Yeah, sorry Past Me, but I’m calling BS. It’s for your own good…
xx