Manic Minor

Long time no blog. The reason for this, quite frankly, is that I've been too knackered to write.
We've been drifting through the past couple of months in a bit of a stupor as Oscar's sleep deteriorated into the odd couple of hours here and there each night, interspersed with sobbing. The only thing that placated him was being breastfed (which we're pretty certain is providing comfort rather than nourishment now - he's well into his tenth month and surely beyond the stage of not being able to go through the night without sustenance?)
Now, Neil and I embarked on the weird and wonderful journey which is parenthood with open eyes and were fully prepared to put in the nocturnal hours, rocking, comforting and feeding our baby for six months or so. But nine months in and we're really creaking under the strain. The symptoms are getting progressively more alarming. I've driven the car down the wrong side of the road (I was tempted to wind down the car window and shout, "Je suis desolée" to cover my embarrassment) and almost burnt the house down (by leaving a pan of pasta to boil dry on the hob while I strolled round the park, completely oblivious). Groceries have been left, paid for, on cash desks, and close friend's names have escaped me. Having battled with our instincts, morals and text books, we decided to take a big brave breath last night and try some controlled crying.
Now, Neil and I have, up to now, been of the opinion that any method that involves leaving your child to cry unattended is verging on extreme cruelty. If Oscar let out so much as a whimper, I would drop everything and bound up the stairs like a rabbit, frightened that a tear shed alone in his cot would inevitably result in some damaging insecurities later in life. But something I read by Dr Christopher Green really made me begin to change my mind. He writes that a sleepless child fires a bullet which ricochets back to harm him aswell (as a tired, stressed parent cannot give adequate care during the day). Perhaps it is kinder to 'sleep train' a child for a few nights than to let problems fester for months or even years, and end up with a toddler who is up and down the stairs all night and weaving in and out of foul moods all day?
Before you think I've taken leave of my hormones, I would never condone the old-school approach which I understand involves dumping the child in a cot and shutting the door, not returning until the crying stops (which can be hours later). We opted for the softer, and I believe kinder, option of returning every few minutes to comfort Oscar and reassure him he hadn't been abandoned. I know it's very early days (we're only on day two) but initial results have been startlingly promising. He did cry on and off for almost an hour on the first night, but he sounded cross and slightly confused rather than distressed or frightened, and certainly didn't go as far as hysterical as I was led to believe would be the result by some of the 'attachment parenting' advocates. For the first time in his life he got through a night without milk, and woke up in the morning looking refreshed and relaxed with a big smile on his face. No signs of permanent mental damage yet, then, and I'm feeling quite hopeful that I will start remembering my friend's names again.