A Letter of Farewell

Dear Sling,

Firstly, thank you. You have been a lifesaver at times over the past seven months. In fact, our dependence on you was so great, it got a bit unhealthy. You started as a handy carrying device for our babies when they were small, and were just one of a few options at bedtime. But, oh, how quickly you became the only option. At our lowest point, you were the single thing that would get our S to sleep, and we needed you to do the job sometimes 10 times a day. Our shoulders ached, our backs gave in, our frustration grew.

We thought we were free of you some months back. Suddenly S learned to sleep in her cot. Of course, she needed other little helping hands - endless sucks of a bottle or boob, a music box, lots of rocking and cuddling and falling asleep next to mummy. But in recent weeks, with all else failing again, we had to dust you off and send you back into action. Even P, our easy sleeper, needed you a few times in the dead of night to help her back to the land of nod. I refused to use you. The Garbageman's back groaned with the girls' increased weight - you weren't designed to be used on such large babies. One night recently, determined to be rid of you, I let S cry and whinge and moan for two hours as I tried to calm her and pat her to sleep. I tried the cot, my bed, my arms. I was strong and resilient for most of that time, but eventually I caved and let the Garbageman use you. S was alseep in seconds. 

But we have been saved by the kind and gentle women at Tresillian Resort and Spa. P and S have learnt a few new tricks - healthy ones, this time - and I'm happy to say we won't be needing you anymore. So farewell, Sling. I don't think we'll miss you.

WIth thanks,

Greer

PS I might call you back into action when the bubs are bigger for quick hip-holding dashes into the shops. But no more sleepytimes, OK?