Last night we put the boys to bed at 7.00 and the pair of us alternately and together rocked them and soothed them until 10.20 when we gave up the ghost. Neither of them had slept for more than a few minutes and all four of us were exhausted. We decided to let them cry it out. Michael cried for 20 minutes and then stopped. Daniel cried lustily for a full 45 minutes. At 11.05 all was silent. It is very miserable to listen to your children cry and not to do anything about it. And then, I was cruelly awoken at 11.23 by the sound of howling. I suppose that we will look back at this some day and laugh. Hollowly.
Comments
on 26 February 2006 at 16:18
oh poor mr and mrs waffle. i ~do~ sympathise. (see, i’m even doing it non-american style.)
xo
Have you considered an exorcism? Perhaps this kind can only be driven out by prayer.
They say I cried a lot as a child. I only found out years later that I was plied with whiskey and milk on such occasions. All a bit Pavlovian, I?d say… 🙂
belgianwaffleon 27 February 2006 at 13:05
Mike, that is such a lovely idea. I would pretty much pay anything for borrowed sleep.
Kristin, am touched and spelling variation too.
FT, I like that.
JD, is that illegal now? I suppose no one would have to know.. 
I’d go for whiskey and an exorcism – you may even want to try witchcraft too.
DMTS, perhaps the nightmare is ending. No howling so far tonight.
Sleeping
The no sleep regime continues unabated. Daniel is like a briar. I suppose Michael has never really slept at night, so heÂ’’s used to it, but Daniel is finding the regular waking every bit as trying as his parents.
Today, I decided to go out and buy various things. Just to get out in the car where, I hoped, my cranky Daniel would sleep. I have just moved them to a double buggy which is wonderful etc. but despite being, you would think, an old hand at buggy folding and unfolding, I have found it just a tad challenging. This morning, I had the two boys sitting in their car seats in the hall and I tried to fold the buggy to get it into the car. No joy. Then discovered that the sling had become enmeshed with it and began trying to wrestle it out. Michael gurgled mirthfully at the sight of his mother becoming flushed and unhappy. Daniel began to howl. That boy can howl. I dislodged the sling and discovered that because the seats were still reclining when I tried to fold the wretched thing, that it was stuck half open, half closed. I wrestled some more. Daniel howled some more. The people who work in an office on the ground floor tried to ignore us. I gave a muffled howl of frustration. Daniel didn’Â’t bother muffling his howls. I stamped my foot. Still, the wretched thing wouldnÂ’’t yield. I put screaming Daniel in the garage where he screamed some more; Michael was enjoying the show so much that I let him stay put. I eventually managed to reopen the buggy but I fear that its canopy is fatally injured.
Did young Daniel fall asleep in the car? No he did not. As I type he sits gurgling in my lap looking as though butter wouldnÂ’t melt in his mouth.
Meanwhile, saintly Michael sleeps.
Comments
Lilo
on 24 February 2006 at 19:58 Having read this and your other sleep post I must say how impressed I am about how sane you’re sounding. We introduced the baby girl into the little boy’s room earlier this week, despite complaining of headaches when she cries and a bed-wetting incident which resulted in the little boy coming in to sleep with us, things seem to be going fairly smoothly. I’m only getting up 3 times a night now instead of every 2 hours – sorry this must sound like a luxury to you, but I’m sure things will smooth themselves out soon
kristin
on 25 February 2006 at 21:18
why is it that the stroller only malfunctions during moments of stress, like trying to board a plane or pack the munchkins into the car? the stroller gods are evil, methinks.
belgianwaffle
on 27 February 2006 at 13:02
FT, um, probably…
Lilo, I dunno, I am slightly despairing.
Kristin, the stroller gods are evil and cruel.
Minkleberry
on 27 February 2006 at 16:11
I hate it when people offer useless advice when you’re quite literally at the end of your tether- however, the end of my tether was what prompted me to read http://www.babywhisperer.com/ No crying out necessary xxx
belgianwaffle
on 02 March 2006 at 22:01
Minks, thanks for the sweeties and the advice…in fact, I don’t want to tempt fate here, but tonight they went straight to sleep at 7.30 and here I am (most foolishly) still up at 11.00 and not a peep out of them.
Princesses v. Pirates
We attended L’s third birthday party yesterday. The invitees were encouraged to come in their carnival outfits. There were eight little girls in attendance. We had seven fairy princesses and one pirate. I regret to inform you that I was not the mother of the pirate.
on 27 February 2006 at 13:01
Sorry, I meant why, thank you. Not why thank you? 0
Sweetie(s) given
Pass Remarkable
My daughter is chatty. I like that. Unfortunately, her ability to talk considerably exceeds her knowledge of socially appropriate behaviour. We visited friends at the weekend and she said to me, loudly and clearly, a propos of their two year old I’m nicer than her. We all laughed and the poor mite knew that she had said something wrong and went pink in the face and asked “Was I bold, Mummy?”.
The other day in the car, we saw a woman on the pavement with weird hair and we had a little chat about her odd hair. I seized the opportunity to say that we could have this chat in the car where the lady couldn’t hear us, but that it would be rude to have this conversation where she could overhear us (Mr. Waffle challenges the ethics of this, but tough). She knitted her brow and mulled this over. Later we went for a cup of tea and
one of the men sitting behind us got up and left his coat over the chair. The Princess said “Look Mummy, he has gone and left his coat and his friend behind.” Pause. “Oh, I shouldn’t say that out loud. I should whisper it to you.”
poggle
on 21 February 2006 at 10:49
And me.I love her earnestness.
Friar Tuck
on 21 February 2006 at 16:23
She catches on quickly. She’ll go far in life.
kristin (Homepage)
on 22 February 2006 at 18:10
she is so precocious. bless her concerned little heart.
Norah
(Homepage)
on 22 February 2006 at 18:47
I am so terrified of having a girl. I’m not good with girls. I like your posts about the princess because it makes me realise that having a girl would be just fine too.
belgianwaffle
on 27 February 2006 at 13:00
Dmts, pog, this is what we love about you.
FT, dunno.
Kristin, thanks.
Norah, you’d be fabulous with a boy or a girl. Lucky little Splog sprog.
We have
determined that the boys can no longer sleep in our bed. We have re-read Gina. We have re-read “The no-cry sleep solution”. Rather pathetically, in the latter, I see that my notes on the Princess’s sleeping patterns at 10 months old are still there.� You will
remember that she finally started to sleep through the night at 2.� I
prefer the gentle approach, which is just as well because crying it out is not
a huge option in a three bed appartment with three small children.� Mind
you, on Friday night, I was absolutely exhausted and Mr. Waffle nobly
volunteered to mind the boys.� At 1.00 in the morning, I got up to see
what was happening to discover that he had got Daniel to sleep in his cot
(good); Mr. Waffle had given up the struggle with Michael and he was howling
himself to sleep in the kitchen (bad); and Mr. Waffle was doing some work
because there was no other time to do it (even worse).� Last night, I genuinely don’t think that I
slept for more than half an hour at a stretch. �We put them to bed at 7.00.� I fed them alternately and together until
ten, when I took a break to wash my teeth, ablute and prepare for bed. �I then stayed with them until 3.00, rising
every half hour to sooth one or other of them back to sleep in his cot. �Went into Mr. Waffle exhausted and he stayed
with them until 4.30 when I went back on shift and they continued the waking every
half hour thing until 7.30 when we all gave up the struggle. �By the time 7.00 rolled round this evening they
were exhausted and straight after dinner, amid much wailing, I bathed them and then
fed them and then put them to bed about 7.45. �As of now, they have therefore been asleep for
35 continuous minutes.� Both of them, at
the same time. �Which is more than they
did at any stage last night. �I feel
myself indulging in, probably groundless, optimism.
on 20 February 2006 at 20:17
oh…. **hugs**
I’m not going to offer advice because thatcan be just annoying. Instead I’m sending good sleep vibes from across the globe. 0
Sweetie(s) given ���
on 21 February 2006 at 06:40
I would have resorted to gin well before this stage – for everyone. Like Minks, I can’t imagine how you are feeling – take care. 0
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on 21 February 2006 at 07:54
I hope our optimising is well founded Waffly. I also hope when they’re, say six, they will be performing all sorts of household tasks for you. 0
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on 21 February 2006 at 09:02
Thank you all very much. 2 sweeties as well, cool! Last night was much less grim but mostly because I was too tired to keep putting them back in their cots and they slept with us which is, of course, where they firmly believe that they belong. 0
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on 21 February 2006 at 10:49
Jebus -and you’re contemplating going back to work? I was grumpy enough with just the one howling cat the other night … 2
Sweetie(s) given ���
(Homepage)
on 21 February 2006 at 15:11
We’re having the same issue with our little one . . . and we can’t bear to let her cry (it has dubious success, at any rate). Occasionally, my resolve firms up and I say, “Tonight we shall be strong and let her cry!” But a few minutes of tears and I’m willing to let her sleep in our bed till she’s 13.
Of course, by then, she wouldn’t be caught dead in our bed. ���
on 21 February 2006 at 16:23
Blimey, I don’t even have kids and I’m in total awe.
This goes to you and Mr Waffle:
0
Sweetie(s) given ���
(Homepage)
on 21 February 2006 at 18:32
all i have to say about this is Dear God.
And to add that i’ve read the no-cry sleep solution, which ended up with the child sleeping with one of us. which she still does. poster-child for cry it out, i’m not. but dammit, we all sleep now.
and thanks for your kind note about the cactus. i had nothing to do with it, if i had it would be nothing but a brown stump. ���
on 21 February 2006 at 21:09
well, a ‘child rearing expert’ on telly today explained that children around the world sleep with their parents quite happily and its good for them. Both mine do and have slept in our bed. 0
Sweetie(s) given ���
(Homepage)
on 22 February 2006 at 18:45
Sometimes I read your blog out to Mr S and we both smile nervously at each other. ���
on 27 February 2006 at 12:59
Pog, ta for sweeties. Yes, back to work or escape as it’s known round here.
Jordana, thank you for sympathy. Obviously, I know precisely how you feel.
Jojo, come back, we miss you. Or at least set up somewhere else…
Diva, a megal (as herself would say), how kind.
KE, truly? Is your child sleeping through the night. If yes, please don’t tell me.
Kristin, you all sleep. I am so envious. Of that and your cactus.
Minks, yes, but we need a bigger bed.
Norah, I wouldn’t be smiling at all if I were you…evil cackle. 0
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On accommodation:
So just saw a place with bells for summoning servants, still a bit
shabby though.� Off to see newer places now. Will report anything
of interest.
On local colour:
Lots more cows today too!! Though nowhere near as many as yesterday when I was out at my meeting.
Just saw my first monkeys on the street.
And, most lengthily, on her trip home to Chicago:
Absolutely exhausted was on a conference call at 5am this morning and
now have to stay up until at least 3.30 am when I can board my flight.
I have been to a lot of airports before but Delhi is hell on earth. The
line [she has been in the US too long, she means the queue] moves at a rate which makes erosion seem rapid, horns sound all
around, everybody smells and the concept of personal space is virtually
non-existant.� I cannot see the top of the queue which is several
meters ahead of me before we get to the terminal door.� Next to me
a woman attempts to push her heavily laden trolley through the throng
to get her 11.45 flight but the sea of people is made impenetrable by
the amount of luggage carried, pushed and dragged by the passengers. A
vast number of well wishers, beggars and persons offering to carry
things rounds out the experience.� Still not even in the terminal.
Once in the terminal, I understand that the business class lounge was
not all she might have hoped for.� Poor snacks.� Very
crowded.� She tells me that to charge her laptop, she had to
unplug a lamp and plunge half the lounge in darkness.� Yes, I
know, it can be difficult to sympathise.
The next update came in the form of a call from Frankfurt early on
Saturday morning.� She had a tight connection but was confident
she could make it.� She zoomed off the plane and, as she was
travelling business, was one of the first off, but, alas there was an
airport employee gathering people for Chicago and she had to wait for
all the people travelling economy.� Gah.� Before boarding the
plane to Chicago, they had to be “wanded” (new ludicrous verb for
me).�� As there were no women available to wield the wand,
the men were wanded first.� The men boarded.� The female
passengers were eventually wanded, but as they emerged at the gate, the
airhostess looked at them and closed the plane door.� My loving
sister was incandescent.� Not to worry she spent most of the 30
hours it took her to get door to door drafting indignant letters of
complaint.
I spoke to her again on Sunday.
Me: Are you recovered from your marathon trip?
Her: Mmm.� I think I hate Delhi.
Me: Nonsense, you’ll grow to love it in the year you’ll be spending there.
Her:� The non-existant personal space.
Me: The monkeys!
Her: The traffic.
Me: You have a driver.
Her: That won’t help, if I’m dead.
Me: Um, the cows.
Her: The intermittant air conditioning.
Me: The, er, the, um, challenge of the project.
Her:� The complete absence of female colleagues.
Me: The weather.
Her: The weather?
I told her that Gaza M and Bosnia R are seriously considering going on
a visit and she is deeply pleased. Bosnia R is already in training for
a tough environment, he plans to spend 6 weeks walking 1,000 kms on the Camino de Santiago
from Seville to Santiago.� Of course, if they decide not to go
now, she may never speak to them again.� Based on her descriptions
so far, I can’t say I’m overwhelmingly keen to make the trip with my
little family, even if, we will each be able to have our own chandelier
in her enormous flat.
on 20 February 2006 at 16:22
Apparently, she has not been to the airport in Calcutta yet. If she had, she would be singing the praises of Delhi’s. ���
(Homepage)
on 20 February 2006 at 17:49
as much of a high flyer as she sounds, i still am feeling deep wells of sympathy for sister waffle. i used to live in chicago, and as much as i didn’t like it, i don’t think i’d trade it for delhi. maybe her posting after that will be the south of france, in recompense. ���
on 21 February 2006 at 07:58
Maybe you could compromise and meet in Santiago d. Comp? 0
Sweetie(s) given ���
on 21 February 2006 at 09:04
Pog, well, she will be anxious for visitors. FT, scary. Kristin, you are very good and kind. On a separate note, can I say how impressed I am with your cactus?
Bobble, that would be lovely. I went there on my honeymoon and stayed in the parador. I feel very nostalgic… 0
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