Proof of my cruelty and child abuse

So, welcome back to aich-eee-double-hockey-stick. Heh. How's that one for ya? No, last night I endured an hour and twenty minutes of screaming before I gave in and just held Oliver in the recliner. Kevin took the morning shift and held him from 4 until 6 or so. So for the afternoon nap, I decided to start over with the sleep lady shuffle. So I sat in the room after putting Oliver in his crib, with my head down, only offering "shhh, shhh, love you, lay down and go to sleep, sweet dreams," now and then. I put him in his crib at 1:28, and I can't get him out for one hour. At one hour, I'm supposed to leave the room, come back and say, "you must not have been tired" and get him out and try again later. I honestly thought I was going to have to do that. I had a little scare, because at 2:24 he was still so hopping mad, he was jumping up and down and knocked his chin on the crib railing. I nearly had a heart attack. But I still waited. I was going to get up and go out at 2:28. And that's when Oliver finally flopped down and fell asleep. It took an entire hour of screaming. I can't say I feel good. I'm only relieved I don't have to worry about doing it again in a little while (though, tonight, it's going to be worse!) Here is proof of my child abuse. (I think I'll put the crib bumpers back up, so his feet don't get stuck out like that again, and so he doesn't bump his head. His poor little head!) Forgive the poor quality photo, I didn't want to use a flash, and it is quite dark in there.

My poor little Oliver, I'm so so sorry! I wish I could say it's for your own good, but I'm not exactly sure anymore. Maybe it's for my own good. I guess that's indirectly for your good. I sure hope we can still be friends, and you can forgive me.