Earlier this week, while camped at a beautiful beach on the Coromandel Peninsula here in New Zealand, we encountered a situation that has whirled around in my head ever since. We arrived to the campsite in the early evening with enough time to set up camp and prepare dinner. Marlow had just fallen asleep in her car seat on the drive (she had a poor night’s sleep the night before, and we knew she was probably down for the night), so we transferred her from her car seat to her bed and started to make dinner. Meanwhile, the family in the site next to us was busy clearing up their dinner and settling their kids for the night. We noticed they had two kids — around the ages of one and three. Before long, we could hear their youngest crying from inside their tent. At this point, I didn’t really take any notice–I’m secretly relieved when other kids are noisier than my own boisterous bunch! But the crying continued and soon escalated to a loud wail.
Being so close, we could hear the baby’s cries like they were inside our own van, and Marlow began to stir from the noise. I took a nosy little peek at our neighbours and realised the parents were sitting contentedly at a table outside their tent, conversing with friends. Not one of them seemed disturbed by the crying so I figured they must be letting their baby cry himself to sleep—or practicing ‘controlled crying’ as it is sometimes called. Fair enough, every parent has their own way of dealing with a baby’s transition through this phase. Surely it wouldn’t be much longer before they settled him down if he hadn’t fallen asleep, right?
Unfortunately not. The wailing from inside the tent went on for more than an hour and only increased in intensity and volume. It went on for so long that people from all corners of the campsite wandered over to see if everything was okay. Meanwhile, the parents ignored the concerned looks from passers-by and continued to behave as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. It seemed this was part of their nightly routine and they weren’t going to break it, even if it meant disturbing dozens of others’ enjoyment of the peaceful evening.
As their neighbours (our van being only a meter or so from their tent), Michael and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the screaming baby and a bit annoyed with the parents. The crying was waking up Marlow and was clearly bothering almost everyone else in the campsite too. Should we say something? What would we say? How long were they going to let it go on? It brought up a discussion about controlled crying, something Michael and I have differing opinions on.
Michael, being much more of a softie than I am, has never wanted to let our babies ‘cry it out’. I think he would prefer to rock his children to sleep until they were twenty years old than to make them cry it out in any sort of ‘sleep-training’ regime (I could see that he even found it difficult to ignore a stranger’s baby’s cries!). I’m also quite relaxed about sleeping arrangements — always letting my babies sleep in my bed and feeding on demand — but with each of our kids, there came a time (usually around one year) where I had to transition them to fall asleep on their own and in their own bed. I found that once my babies learned this skill, they slept more soundly during the night. BUT, it required a few days of letting them cry a bit at bedtime. (Michael had to plug his ears.)
My approach was to cuddle and comfort them, give them a kiss and lie them down in their bed. I’d then walk out of the room, closing the door behind me. The first day was usually the worst, with maybe 10 or 15 minutes of crying, plus a couple of return visits to console them and lie them back down. By the third or fourth day, they would go to sleep without much of a fuss, and usually by the end of the week, they were sleeping much more soundly and happily in their own bed.
So, I’m not opposed to letting a baby cry for a bit, and I’m not one to tell other parents how they should handle this tricky transition. But I don’t think I could ever let my baby cry for over an hour, for any reason, without attempting to settle them. I certainly could never let them do so in a public place. I would prefer to bend my parenting routines or techniques for the benefit of others. How about you? Please share your thoughts.
Courtney x
p.s. The photo above is of a little Marlow in her cot in our old home. She was laughing, not crying!