I’ve received this and other unsolicited advice for years. I’m sure these moms meant well as I would roll into work, yawning as I poured one more cup of coffee, newborn glaze crusting up in the corner of my eyes. Except I had a four year old.
Yeah. My kid slept with us pretty much from the time we took the railings off the crib until, well, now. There have been seasons when we thought we’d made a breakthrough. She would go six weeks without crying or fighting or getting up in the middle of the night.
And then she would.
I’m not sure what it was but somewhere after seven o’clock in the evening, right around the time when I was at my weakest, something/one would take possession of my child and she would become evil. And defiant. And strong. She would scream. Beat on the door. Tell me no. The fear that would release from her small being as she’d sweat and foam at the mouth and make herself sick night after night was enough to scare a well knowing adult. Especially her Mama.
Her manipulation skills were on point. At first: Mommy, I need you! And then, when that stopped working: I threw up! And then when we stopped falling for that: I need to go potty!