Tonight is the night.
Son#3 is going to have to learn to sleep through the night.
Albeit the hard way.
I'm at the point where I physically struggle to stay on my feet and where I have trouble absorbing information or presenting it in any coherent way (all things important in my job and day-to-day life).
I need sleep.
Neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed it like an addict needs his or her kick.
A kind colleague lent me her copy of Dr Weissbluth's 'Healthy sleep habits, happy child'.
It's not just let-the-baby-cry-it-out-kind of book, it actually gives you the scientific reasons why you should help your children sleep through and how to do it.
Poor Son#3 will realise tonight that Mommy (and this is unheard of, I know, I know) also needs sleep, and so does he.
Tonight I'm ignoring him.
The kitchen is closed.
His life-size cuddly toy [me] is adjourning all night-time attention in the form of milk, hugs and soothing.
Boot camp for baby.
Wish me luck.
Son#3 too.
.
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