Long, long ago I was able to climb into my warm, comfortable, peaceful bed all alone and sleep all night. Then I had a baby. What the heck was I thinking? Sweet dreams, sleep. I'll miss you.
We don't do cry it out here. No sleep training. No hysterical babies allowed. Even if I wanted to try leaving my baby in a cold, dark crib all alone while she screams, I couldn't. I have to think about the needs of all my family. Trust me on this. The last thing I need is Simon crying about being woken up too. Then I would have two crying babies and one hysterical, impatient Mama who just wants to sleep.
So the logical solution is to keep a handful of pacifiers on my bedside table. What's that? The baby is crying? Well, here you go Cora Jane. Now go to sleep before I lose it. I try and use self-talk whenever I am tempted to do something that is against what I believe: It goes so fast. It goes so fast and then her babyhood is over. Hold your baby. Pick her up. It doesn't help to yell at Simon. It doesn't help to yell.
Whenever I see people talking about crying it out or bottle feeding or whatever parenting choice is different from mine, I remind myself that they still love their babies. Cause that is what matters most, right? That they love their baby. We don't have to agree. My way might be best (I kid, I kid) but love is all that matters in the end. It doesn't even mean that I love my baby more than you.
I am not a perfect parent and I'm not raising perfect kids. If I was, I wouldn't need the self-talk.
Or the pacifiers for that matter.