A Perfect Night...or Sometimes Mother-In-Laws are Right

Nighttime just plain sucks.

Once the sun goes down in the West Texas sky, both my wife and I look at one another with trepidation and concern. The evening asswhip is about to begin, and it's not vampires we're worried about. As we stroll along our suburban sidewalks with our sweet child posed in his pram, drawing loving glances from our neighbors, we know about his dark side.

The nighttime brings out the very worst in the G-Man. The boy can't stand his bassinet for more than 30 minutes before he erupts with fury like Mt. Vesuvius. And then, the fun begins. Walking, pacing, rocking, massaging, loving, kissing, praying, bargaining and drinking (for daddy-o) -- whatever it takes. The storm may be quelled, but not fully dissipated. Once placed in the offensive bassinet by our bed, the clock ticks down to woeful unrest for the entire household. By morning, I look and feel like a bag of ass left out on a hot driveway.

Why put him in it, you may ask. And it's a good question. Only the insane, I'm told, continue doing the same thing while expecting different results. However, I am of the opinion that children should learn to sleep by themselves. My folks made it a point, and while some special nights I was allowed for a while, most of the time I was sent packing back to my own bedroom. It's a good boundary to have, I believe. Mommy and Daddy sleep together. The elevator car is full. Please take the stairs to the left and get your butt back in your own pee-drenched bed. Schmutz up your own space.

You see, I will not be evicted from my own room. Just not going to let that happen. I've seen it and heard about it happening. The kid comes in crying and daddy goes down to the den to sleep. Hell, even the couple who bought our old spare bed were doing it so momma and their 2-year-old son could get some shuteye together. While I try not to judge those who live that way, it's just not for me.

My son disagrees. Our first, but probably not our last disagreement.

When he kicks off, I feel like I'm in an airplane on which I have yet to be trained. The basics are the same. The control yoke points the attitude and the nose and works the ailerons. The pedals work the tail rudder. Levers in the front must be engine speed. But here I am in front of a dashboard which I don't understand. And when he kicks off, it's like 30 different lights and warning buzzers going off at the same time. I just have to keep throwing levers and flipping switches until he starts to respond and  peril is avoided.

"Whoop-whoop. Warning. Terrain. Pull up. Whoop-whoop. Warning. Terrain. Pull up."

It's like living "Airport '75" over and over again each night. And Charlton Heston ain't here to save our asses.

During our last week with my mother-in-law helping in the house, she discovered that G-Man liked to have lots of cuddles at night and then be placed on a pillow. He's zonk out while she watched crumby movies on TV and hang with him all morning until we got up. It was effective, but exhausting. But that's how we got through the second half of the horrible nighttime screechfests. Only problem was, she was staying up all night to make sure He didn't roll over and smother, and we couldn't do that night after night after night without gunplay at some point.

Foiled again!

Well, almost.

Then we decided to take a risk and try something that the experts would say was tantamount to bad parenting. Sometimes you have to land the plane without the gear, right?

OK. I get it. Putting a kid on a pillow is asking for SIDS. Putting a kid on a pillow in your own bed is asking for flattened pancake SIDS. But we are improvising here. We decided to put G-Man on a pillow between us. We lifted the edges of the pillow up onto our shoulders and arms to keep him in the divot in between us. And you know what? He slept for four- and five-hour stretches. Perfect angelic sleep. We actually got a touch of shuteye too. Amazingly. After that first night, I awoke to not feel like a cake left out in the rain, but an actual human being. I felt like I could actually probably tie my shoe competently or put gas in the car. Maybe...MAYBE...even balance a checkbook.

We've now tried it several times and it works. For now, the lion sleeps at night.