Danger, Will Robinson!

Dear Tante and Oma,

Danger! Danger! Danger! Dive! Dive! Dive!

You can’t imagine the plague that has come to our little house in Provo. I can hardly believe it myself.

I heard Mama and Daddy talking on Sunday about something they call “sleep training.” Have you ever heard of this? The words don’t sound bad, but the meaning is VERY BAD.

At first I thought it was a mistake. Why do I need to train to sleep? I sleep just fine in my car seat and my swing. But Daddy said, when are we going to get Linnea out of that car seat?

Then I heard them say I would have to cry in my crib. Why would they PLAN for me to cry in my crib? I tried to bounce and squawk and play my music very loudly to distract them, but they kept talking about this BAD THING.

Then yesterday the worst thing EVER happened. At naptime Mama began this “sleep training.” Instead of letting me snuggle in the swing with my pacies and bunnies at naptime, she put me in my bad crib! Flat on my back!

She gave me pacies and put on some insipid music and then LEFT. I cried and cried and cried myself to sleep. But then I kept losing my pacies and woke up crying some more. The only thing that saved me was that it was time to leave for the museum.

After the meanness at naptime, we went to Salt Lake City in the car. I was able to take some nice naps in the car. At the museum I took a nice nap on Mama’s chest in the Baby Bjorn.

Thank goodness I got my rest during the day, because at bedtime Mama did the BAD THING AGAIN. Again with the flat on the back. Again with the crib. Again with the pacies and the stupid music. Again with the LEAVING.

This time I didn’t take it lying down.

OK, I guess I did. But I put up a fight! I cried. Mama always comes to help me when I cry. This time Mama came in and patted me, but left again.

So then I cried and I pulled my feet as high as I could in the air and then WHAM—dropped them down onto the mattress. I did this lots of times.

Mama came in and patted me but left again!

So then I cried a new high-pitched cry.

Daddy came in and patted me but left again.

Then I screamed. I cried and I screamed and let the tears roll down my face.

Do you know what happened? Mama came in and patted me but left again!

Then the pièce de résistance. I screamed and started coughing and gagging like I was going to throw up.

Mama came in, and THAT got her attention. She picked me up, but I was so wound up that I just kept screaming. She tried to give me the same horrible pacies that she put in my crib. I pushed those away. I wasn’t about to fall for that one.

Mama took me downstairs, but I kept screaming. She gave me to Daddy and I screamed but started breathing a little bit. I was so upset that I needed a bottle and an hour in Daddy’s lap watching basketball before I could finally calm down and fall asleep. Sports always make me fall asleep.

Daddy—God Bless Daddy—said, “Why are we doing this again?” Mama said, “Because Dr. Anderson wants us to.” What? What? WHAT? I thought these people were supposed to be my Mama and Daddy. They are supposed to use their noggins and know best. If Dr. Anderson wanted them to jump off a bridge with me in their arms, would they do that too?

Turns out that rotten Dr. Anderson says I can’t sleep in my car seat anymore and I have to sleep in my own room and learn to fall asleep by myself. Mama did some research, and some other babies have let their heads slump in their car seats and the slumping made them not breath so well. I promised that I would breath, but they didn’t listen.

Mama said when big sister Sabrina was my age she had to be rocked to sleep, and all that rocking took hours. Then Sabrina woke up again right away. So that’s why they did this bad bad “sleep training” with big sisser (poor big sisser!).

But I DON’T DO THAT. I fall asleep right away when they give me a bottle, and I stay asleep. I’ve slept through the night since I was SIX WEEKS OLD. This is the thanks I get?

Mama and Daddy decided to COMPROMISE with Dr. Anderson. I’ve heard Mama use this word with big sisser, and it never comes out well for big sisser.

They decided that they would keep helping me fall asleep, and would leave the crib in their room. But (here comes the COMPROMISE) I would have to sleep flat on my back in the crib—no car seat. We did that last night, and I made it a few hours before I had to snuggle with Mama in the big bed. After some snuggle and sleep, she put me back in my crib and I made it a while longer before I got up with Daddy for a bottle.

The next time I go to the doctor I’m going to eat some raspberries first and then throw up on Dr. Anderson. I might get a little bit on Mama too. Thhhhepppttthhh.

Love and Tears,
Tired Little Linnie Lou-Hoo