This afternoon I started to write a post about the fact that now, at almost 15 months old, Stella is STILL not sleeping thorough the night. It went a little something like this: “wah wah wah, my baby doesn't sleep.Wah. She wakes up four times per night. Wha wha it used to be way worse wah I can't believe I survived. But then it got a bit better than someone-please-punch-me-in-the-throat-bad but is still pretty terrible wah. Feel sorry for me please also validate me wha.”
This verbal onslaught was meant to be interpreted by you, dear reader, as "Oh my LANDS, you are such a good and patient parent, the picture of Attachment Parenting maternal magnificence and I certainly couldn't have managed without throwing myself of the balcony or becoming a gin and Cheerios kinda mum."
From there I went on to describe my plans for what is, essentially, cry it out YOU WILL SLEEP NOW HOLY MOTHER OF ROCKS my child, but is not REALLY cry it out because I am an attachment parent and I love my child too much to do bad dirty evil CIO, and even though she is crying until it is over (out). Yes, I do love my daughter more than those CIO bad, evil, neglectful Ferberzian cigarette smoking spanker parents. And anyway, here are a million ways in which I will justify my sleep training plans to the entire internet because oh please AP granola eating tie-died hippies I want to be in your club and also can you tell me that I am a good parent (please don't hate me - owwwww my feelings.)
And then I tried to tie this little ball of blathering bullshit up with a string of SEO keywords and top it with a snap happy bow of a search-engine-friendly title in hopes of reeling in unsuspecting bleary-eyed googlingparents, vulnerable in their sleep deprivation, clickety click click, a million hits per day.
Needless to say, the original post was a pile of shit. Not that this is much better. But whatever. It's 9:30 PM and I'm drinking a bottle of fancy Japanese hipster beer and so I'm hitting publish. Enjoy.
Gha. I'm such a douche.