Thursday, August 4, 2011


This post is not about how failure opens new doors, or teaches determination.  It's not about how God can use failure to teach us humility and dependence.

This post is about how failure feels like shit.

About three weeks ago, I decided to make some changes in Joel's schedule to facilitate better sleep for both of us.  He had gotten into a pattern of nursing through the night, latching on just to keep himself asleep.  He was also refusing to sleep in his crib, so I was putting him to bed on the floor sometimes.

Well, three weeks on from those changes, I still haven't been able to find anything to help him sleep better.  Yesterday he cried for two hours as I tried to convince him to nap in his crib.  The only times he stopped were the times I picked him up, only to start up again the moment I put him down.

The only thing I have accomplished in the last few weeks is that his second nursing session doesn't come until 4 p.m., so I won't have to pump this school year.  That is the only positive progress I have made. 

I just don't know what to do with him.  Is he just strong-willed?  Spoiled?  Teething?  Sick?  Something else?  I have no idea.  I'm his mother, and I can't figure out how to help him.

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