The Car Seat Conversation That Changed How One Mom Saw Sleep Training

When Melissa and I got on our call, she looked exhausted.

Not just tired. Defeated.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she told me. “I wanted something gentle.”

Her daughter Emma was 14 months old and waking multiple times a night.

Melissa had spent weeks trying to help her sleep with what she believed was the gentlest possible approach.

Sitting beside the crib.
Rubbing her back.
Picking her up and putting her down over and over.
But Emma was still crying.
And that felt unbearable.
“I thought if we chose a gentle method, she wouldn't cry,” she said quietly.

I paused for a moment and asked her something.
“Does Emma ever fight getting into her car seat?”
Melissa laughed immediately.
“Oh my God. Every single day.”
She described it instantly.
The stiff body.
The arched back.
The screaming.
The tiny legs locking straight so she couldn’t buckle the straps.

“And what do you do?” I asked.
“I mean…” she said, grinning sheepishly. “I put her in anyway.”
“Aren’t you worried about traumatizing her when you ‘force’ her into the car seat?” I asked gently.
Melissa laughed.
“No. I know it’s the only safe option for her. I mean, I hate hearing her cry, but there isn’t another option.”

Then I asked her another question.
“How was daycare when Emma started?”
Melissa groaned.
“Awful,” she admitted. “She cried at every dropoff for weeks.”

She told me how Emma would cling to her leg while the teacher gently peeled her off. How she cried in the parking lot afterward.
How she spent the first week staring at her phone, waiting for the daycare to call.
“And in those moments, did you worry you were harming her?” I asked.
Melissa paused.
“Honestly?,” she admitted. “At the time, I wasn’t sure.” 

Then she smiled a little.
“But now I can see she’s completely fine. Better than fine, actually. Most mornings she runs happily into daycare. And even on the days she’s a little clingy, now I know she’ll be fine. She never cries for more than a few minutes. Her teachers always text me happy photos later.”
A few minutes later, Melissa told me something else.
“You know, Emma still cries every time I close the bathroom door.”
We both laughed.
Every parent remembers this phase where peeing alone is considered a crime against humanity.

Yesterday, I practiced with my toddler, Valentina, who is transitioning into preschool.
We’ve been repeating a simple phrase together:
“Mommies always come back.
Papas always come back.
Big sisters always come back.”
Because small children do not automatically know this.
Separation feels enormous. Devastating, even.
Because when someone they love disappears, they genuinely don't know if you will come back.
Valentina made it 55 minutes yesterday before we got the call to pick her up.
I'm sure she'll make it a little bit longer today.

And that’s why practicing separation and reunion is so important.
Because children learn only by doing.
At bedtime.
With trusted caregivers.
With grandparents.
With babysitters.
“The people I love leave… and they always come back.”

This is why young children love peekaboo so much.
A parent disappears. Momentarily. And then comes back.
Over and over and over again.
Peekaboo is practice.
Practice tolerating separation.
Practice building trust.
Practice learning that loved ones always come back.

A week after our call, Melissa texted me.
“She slept through the night for the first time ever,” she wrote.
And then:
“She adjusted faster than I did. I’m still learning how to sleep through the night again after all of these months.”

A few days later, she sent another message.
“I was so worried about traumatizing her,” she admitted.
“But now I can see that we are both so much happier. She’s not cranky in the mornings anymore… and neither am I.”

“She still reaches for me when she’s hurt.
She still lights up when I walk in after daycare.
She still wants to cuddle while we read bedtime stories.”

​A few minutes later, another message came through.

“I can see that she's fine. Better than fine. She's thriving. And so, for the first time in a long time, am I. I'm a much better parent now that I'm getting sleep. I'm so relieved that it's not at the expense of our bond."

If you’d like support helping your child sleep while protecting the connection you care so deeply about, here’s the link to get started.