Category Archives: Writing

I let you cry because I am selfish. Sleep training and independence.

Babies are not always easy sleepers. Some wake up one time while others wake up ten times. For the the lucky people who have babies that sleep through the night at the bat, I hate you. Ok, I do not really hate you, but definitely jealous. Yes, thats the right word. Jealous.

I had to sleep train my son. He was the worst sleeper on the planet. I do not blame it on the breastfeeding. Yes, he wanted to nurse every 2 to 3 hours at any given time and when he was going through a growth spurt, he wanted to nurse every 1.5 hours. Try doing that during the night and sleeping in between. They say that if a baby eats enough, they would probably sleep a lot. Well, I call bull because I at times, overfed him, and yet he chose not to sleep at all.

That is because I became his crutch. His bad habit. I gave him everything he wanted. Every cry, every little whimper, I was there to console him. He could make one tiny little noise, and I would jump at the chance to make sure he was fine. To snuggle and cuddle with him. It was my favorite.

I did this from the very beginning. So when it was time for me to let go of my favorite past time due to my lack of sleep and the fact I was no longer a functioning human being, my little man would not let go. He refused to let me go. He refused to sleep. He knew I was pulling myself away. It did not mean I loved him any less, but I needed him to be independent and to be an amazing sleeper all on his own.

This is where sleep training came in. Sleeping is a skill. Being able to sooth oneself to sleep is a skill the body has to learn. It does not come naturally. Babies are born with a clean slate. They learn as they go and as parents we have to be there to help them and guide them. That is our job.

I read up about every kind of sleep training out there and I tried practically all of them. I refused and I mean REFUSED to let my son “cry it out.” I thought the Ferber method was drastic and psychologically damaging. That was before I did any real research on the method. After some reading and coming up with a plan, I gave it a go and put everything in motion. Now. like any sleep training, everyone in the house has to be on board. One parent does not sleep train alone. One parent does not do all the work. Unless, of course, that parent is a single parent which is another conversation for another time.

The first few days are hard. I am not going to say it is easy. Listening to your pride and joy cry because they refused to sleep is hard. What took me a few days to figure out were the different cries my son would give me. He had his pain cries, his tantrum cries, his hunger cries. Each had their own distinct sounds. I needed to be able to distinguish from all of them. I never took the time before because I took every chance I got to jump up and save my son from ever crying. The first few nights he gave me the pain cries. Change is hard. He was use to me nursing him and rocking him until he fell asleep. That would take anywhere between 45 minutes to 1.5 hrs. I would then lay him down and he would be awake again within 3 hours. Who could live like that? I did that for 6 months.

Enough was enough. I needed my sanity and I needed me back. I was selfish but I needed him to let go too and so it began.

The first few nights, I would nurse him until he was drowsy but awake. I gave him a kiss and laid him down in his crib. Gave him his pacifier and turned on his crib soother. He was fine until I headed for the door then he started to cry. Bawling. I let him cry for about 5 minutes then checked on him again. I however had to fight the urge to pick him up. He gave me as many sad faces he could come up with. I would give him his pacifier and turn on his crib soother if it had turned off and walked away. It was hard. It was not like I was abandoning him. He just needed to know that I was still there just not the way he was use too for 6 months.

We kept up this method. We stucked it out with our plan and it worked. After about a week, he would nurse and I would lay him down and he did not cry, not even when I left the room. I offered him his pacifier and turned on his crib soother. He would look at me and knew it was bed time. He would just fall right to sleep. It was glorious. And not only did he go to sleep, he would sleep for 12 hours without waking up. The first few nights, he did wake up a few times, but less than what he use to wake up too. And as each night progressed, he woke up less and less.

Now I have this amazing little sleeper who goes to bed on his own. Who knows when it is bedtime at night. After bath time, lotion and some snuggling, he knows what will happen next and he does not even fight it. He welcomes it. He knows that after a full night of sleep, he wakes up a happy smiley child. He is ready to play and I am full of energy to give into every little mischievous little adventures we get ourselves into.

So parents who say this is psychologically damaging, its not. I make sure that I give him enough attention to let him know that I will always be there for him. Day time is learning time and play time and night time is sleeping time. It worked for us and even though I started trying this CIO method for selfish reasons, I am raising an independent person. One who is learning how to do things for himself and not relying on mommy to do everything for him.

I feel like I did something right and only time will tell how independent he becomes. But for now, needing my help to get to sleep isnt something he needs.

Of course, I do not want him to grow up too fast. After all, he is just getting ready to turn one. Thats another milestone, I am getting ready to freak out about.

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Sex as a sport

Before you read any further, I am not going to share with you my personal experiences with people or any intimate details. If you think that’s what I am sharing, please exit this post now.

So how do most people view sex?

In college, I was surrounded by people who viewed it as a sport. How many people can they sleep with in one night, in one week, to one month. They would keep track and share their details with each other. Keeping notches above their bed frame. It is amazing the things I learned. I was never the type to do that. Keep track of my sexual conquests. Although I enjoy the act, I do not plan to bed as many people nor do I share intimate details about it with my friends, but I do still view it as a sport but not in the same way one might think.

People often define sport as an athletic activity requiring skill or physical prowess and often in a competitive nature. I can put sex in each one of those requirements. I use sex as a sport against myself. Twisted, yeah it can be. Sometimes I view myself as a lover, but most of all I view myself as a performer. I like to think about it this way: being a great performer will in turn make me a great lover. 

I want to make sure I am in good enough shape to keep up. Practicing as much as I can to better myself at what I am doing with my partner. The competitive nature in sex is not against my partner at least not in a way where one person “wins.” The more often we play together, the better we get, and the more enjoyable it becomes. Challenging each other in every way possible.

Sex should not be sinful and it should not be a used just for procreation. Yes, I do see it as an intimate act, but if I play hard, work hard, in the end I will achieve what I wanted to begin with. To be the best lover, performer I can be. No one wins or loses. Just trying to perfect and reign in my skills. Challenging myself and always striving to be better. Allowing myself to open up and try new things. It may be scary, but the bigger the risk, bigger the reward. Right?

Life Black Out

Have you ever gotten so drunk that you forgot what the fuck happened the night before? Now, for some you, that’s a yes. Hell, I even have done it on multiple occasions. Of course,  mine consisted of a mixture of drugs and alcohol. PS, not a good combination.

Now have some of you forgotten parts of your life? I am in that situation now.

Maybe because my life is moving at super speed, with everything that is going on, but I find myself not remembering certain years of it. Literally, I have blocked out or blacked out certain years of my life.

Now, why the hell am I trying to go back and “re-live” my past? I do not fucking know.  Maybe I am a masochist and I just like remembering the torture I put myself through to get to where I am today. Again, I do not know. But what I do know is this– I can’t remember.

I literally can not remember certain years. YEARS!!! Like 365 days worth of my life. And not just certain days here and there, like a whole damn year or multiple years! I am trying to think back why I blocked out a period in my life. I mean I can think of a few things, but should some jackass affect me so much that I chose to pretend like he was never part of my life when clearly he was. Yes, this is over some asshole that popped up in my mind randomly.

I know that I have not slept or eaten for a couple of days now. Maybe because sleeping makes me go back and recall my past, and thinking about it makes me ill to my stomach, but why now? I do not miss that life and I certainly do not regret it, but like I said, I mentally blacked out that year(s) of my life. So restless brain, why are you bringing it up? I find myself trying to recall what happened and why it happened. Does it feel like I got no closure and my mind is trying to piece together everything I tried my hardest to forget?

Actually, I did forget but something triggered a neuron in my brain forcing me to face this.

They say time heals all wounds. I call bullshit. You just forget and move on, but the wound will always be there in some form of a scar. It doesn’t hurt anymore, but that symbolic mark will always be there. (That may not make sense, but it does to me)

What I am trying to say in my rambling post is this– if you can completely black out parts of your life, that is kind of awesome. For me, I feel that way. I know I went through a very dark period and I did things I am glad I can’t remember. A part of me is sad about it because I thought that “time” I chose to forget, was one of my happiest times. And yet when it was over, I never looked back. The memories I thought I would cherish forever, I don’t. The people I met then (who are no longer part of my life), I could really care less about. I mean if they died tomorrow, my life would not change. I do not think I would even feel bad even though I may or may not have loved them once. That sounds heartless, but that’s how I feel. Its like they never really meant anything to me. I desperately want to FEEL something, and yet, I can’t. I literally don’t feel any kind of joy for it. I feel mute. I guess that’s still some form of feeling.

I have a misconstrued memory of that time. I literally can’t piece together the good times or the bad times. It just confuses the hell out of me. Oh well. It is what it is. Stupid response but I can’t think of a better phrase.

Its like I got wasted for 365+ days straight and didn’t realize it. Fuck, maybe I did. Its a life black out.