I'm posting from the bunker I've built in the living room. Operation Cry It Out has officially begun, and the anguished wails of a sleepy KittyCat are filling the air. Every few minutes there's a pause for breath, as she realizes that her "I'm not Tired" routine has finally worn out it's welcome.

Unfortunately, I couldn't find camoflague earplugs to complete my ensemble. The In Uniform for this war is jeans and t-shirt. With blue fuzzy ballet-style slippers. And a ponytail. I lit a scented candle to assist in my efforts at non-surrender. Time and a full stomach are on my side. There will be sleeping tonight. She will learn to self-soothe. Nobody's died from this yet.

Twenty minutes into Operation Cry It Out. There is a brief, but significant pause. Then, as if by magic she realizes that no one is running to her cries. The wailing resumes. I have to wait another 4 minutes before I can go in to quietly tell her "shoosh. It's time for sleep now. Mommy loves you. Everything's fine." I rub her belly and re-position her feet so that they're back in separate legs of her sleeper jammies. Then I tuck the blankets back in around her and leave the room.

I know that this will pass. Mommy will win the battle because she's older and more stubborn than KittyCat. After all this crying, she's going to wear herself completely out.

I'll post again later, and keep you informed of the war's progress.