Showing posts with label baby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baby. Show all posts

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Busy busy

If I had all the time in the world (as well as more money and space), I would most certainly craft more. But I do not, so I do what I can, and in the last few months I've wrapped up a few projects, including:

Blocks, so we can take weekly and monthly photos like I did for Elle (bwah hahahahaha!)

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Burp cloths ... we don't really need any new ones for Wesley, because most of Elle's were gender-neutral, but I had purchased a lot of fabric and just needed to take the time to cut and sew them. Now we're ready to use them or give them as gifts, and I've decluttered, too!

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And name letters, because I did them for Elle (with a much longer name) and didn't want Wesley to feel left out: 

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I'm hoping to put together a new crib skirt using some super cute green polka-dot fabric before Wesley arrives but don't think it's going to happen ... and since he'll be in our room for the first few months, anyway, it's not a huge priority, just something I'd like to get checked off my to-do list!

My new plan to get Wesley to come out is to start a bunch of new projects - I figured if I book myself up and have lots of stuff in the mix, he's bound to make his arrival in the middle of it all. 

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Dear Elle, as your days as an only child are numbered ...

Dear Belle,

Your little world is going to change drastically soon (you actually predicted tomorrow), and while I know you have no idea what this will mean - for us, for you, for anything you've known for the last 35 months - I want you know that the basics will not change. You will always be our little girl, an entertaining mix of stubborn, sweet, sass and smart. You will always be the first baby we welcomed in to our hearts and home. You will always be the one who taught me about true love and worry, the pint-sized package that reminds me of myself and pushes my buttons on a daily basis.

As much as I am sure I will miss parts of the life we have now, where you can communicate anything and everything to me, are easy to feed and transport just about anywhere and are no longer in need of diapers and  I am excited to see the way our family dynamic shifts to include your brother. I know it will be an adjustment for all of us. You've been the star of the show for almost three years, and you get lots of one-on-one time with Daddy and me. I've treasured our special outings together, especially in the last few months, and we'll continue having special time where it's just you and me, or just you and Daddy.

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We went to the park this morning for what very well could be one of our last "dates" before Wesley arrives. I watched you conquer a wobbly bridge, saw you scale the playground equipment, observed you whizzing down slides of all sizes. You were always aware of where I was, but you didn't need me with you. Your imagination raced as you announced that one of the play structures was a planet - "Saturn, because it has rings" - and you hung on the rings and climbed in the crevices of the structure. You then announced you were ready to go home. But first, we had to stop and get ice cream from the ice cream truck at the park. You let a lot of the ice cream melt and drip down the cone as you plucked sprinkle after sprinkle from the soft serve - you were a woman on a mission, and as chocolate covered your shirt and legs, you made sure no sprinkle was left uneaten.

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These types of mornings and moments are so special to me - I love watching you, love learning new things about you and how your mind works, love creating memories with you. And for the next few months, it's going to be hard for both of us to adjust to the fact that things have changed and someone else needs Mommy and Daddy's attention at times when you a) want it and b) have had it in the past. I've never been one to let a challenge stop me, but the demands of a newborn are great and I'm going to need some time to figure out a new "balance."

I cherish your excitement for your little brother's arrival - the unprompted kisses on my belly, the random mentions of Wesley, even the odd conversations we have about how my tummy will be smaller after Wesley is born. You're going to be such an amazing big sister, and he's lucky to have you. I'm thrilled that you're so happy about having a little brother and have embraced his pending birth with curiosity and enthusiasm.

But for all the joy and all the love you have, I know it's going to be a change. Just know that our love for you will never change. I can't wait to see the bond you and your brother will share, but I'm eating up every last moment with just you while I can.

Love,
Mommy

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Procreation: A thought process

First, a note: I am on a mission to catch up on the ridiculous amount of posts I have started ... I find that in the little time after I put Elle to bed, if I'm near the computer I'm usually answering e-mails, paying bills, etc. And when I start mentally composing posts, I lose steam by the time I can start to type it out. But I suffered a near deathly stomach virus this week (well, I certainly thought I was near death) and had some time to think. I realized that it really bothers me to have these nearly finished, unpublished posts, even if they are no longer as timely as they were when I started them, and I have vowed to myself to try to just finish them off and start with a clean slate. So if you feel like I'm slamming you with a lot of heavy/stupid/rambling posts, let's blame the sickness and move on, all righty? 


* * * * *

Around the time that Elle turned one (you know, almost A YEAR AGO), *the* question was asked frequently - some form of "So, when are you going to have another?"

Depending on who asks, I sometimes feel violated, like they've crossed a line. I mean, they assume we want more kids (we do). And they assume I feel comfortable talking to them about it (I usually don't).

These things seem to follow a natural progression - it's the follow up to "When are you going to have kids?" which is the sequel to "When are you going to get married?" The questions never stop.

If my mom friends ask, it's OK with me. It's like they're peeking in to a shared little secret chamber of life plans and timelines. Sometimes we have similar plans, other times we don't. There are the mom friends who have a kid Elle's age ... and have another or are pregnant with their second child already. Or the mom friends who have a kid Elle's age ... and are waiting for a few months or years to have another. Some have the similar reasoning - sibling spacing, finances, career concerns, space issues, etc. Others have different considerations - they want a lot of kids, or they're considered to be of advanced maternal age, or they just want their kids to be close in age.

When I imagined my life as an adult, I figured I would be married for a few kids, then have 3-4 kids, 2-3 years apart. But then I actually started to live my life as an adult. And being an adult is expensive. And my husband is almost 13 years old than me. So these factors made me reconsider. Perhaps 2-3 kids, 1-2 years apart?

I didn't want to wait and delay a family too much, so we started trying to conceive after being married just shy of two years. We were fortunate to get pregnant rather quickly, and thus our journey began. I read a lot when I was pregnant with Elle and in her first year of life. One of the things that I read involved "optimal spacing of pregnancies." I've also heard that it takes a woman's body 2-3 years to fully recover from a pregnancy, from healing to replenishing nutrients vital to both a placenta/fetus and the mother. There is also the whole I-didn't-really-feel-ready-physically-or-mentally thing, which bottom line, is my biggest consideration.

I thought I'd want to try to get pregnant soon after Elle turned 1. But I didn't. I feel like we've got enough going on and are still treasuring Elle's early years and trying to figure everything out - how would another kidlet affect the unbalanced balance we've got going on? If we got pregnant today, we'd be ecstatic - but we're not trying. And the longer we wait, the more I feel like two kids might be our magic number. I reserve the right to revisit that decision (and I think Tim could go either way on it, too), but I'm feeling less torn by my internal debate of "should we have two kids? or three?"

Over the last few months, I've definitely gotten more comfortable with and excited and nostalgic about the idea of another pregnancy, another baby. Going through Elle's baby clothes definitely made my biological clock tick a bit louder. The pregnancy announcements of several friends has given me a bit of baby fever. The arrival of new babies born to friends makes me remember the first few weeks of Elle's life. My brother just welcomed his second child - his first son - in to his family, and I love that Elle has little cousins (although they are on the other side of the country) that she can grow up "with."

Tim and I often talk about how we were lucky to get an easy baby for our first ... but it also makes me a) hope we're lucky again and b) terrified we won't be. Elle slept well pretty much from the beginning. We didn't have any trouble breastfeeding. She didn't have colic or any health issues. She's very rarely has a diaper rash, eats like a champ, hasn't had to go to the doctor aside from well baby visits. We've been extremely blessed. Our biggest stress has been childcare, and whether we had two or five more kids, that would still be just as much or as little of a problem as it would be with just Elle. But while I know we could handle the challenges of a baby who has food allergies, refuses to sleep at night, etc., I have to admit it scares me a bit. 

The emotions, the anticipation, the journey of another pregnancy - I'm looking forward to it. (The morning sickness and exhaustion, not so much, but whatever.) I look forward to feeling baby flips, kicks and hiccups again. To telling friends and family. To seeing our baby grow and develop via doctor's appointments and ultrasound(s). To seeing Elle around a little brother or sister (and for a toddler who doesn't like baby dolls and has only recently started to show any interest in human infants, that one could go either way).

Tim and I have thought 2.5-3.5 years apart would be good spacing for our kids. I've been told that the longer we wait, the harder it will be for Elle to adapt to another sibling. I've also heard people argue the other side - that having kids close together is optimal. Really, I think a case could be argued either way, and we have our reasons for our thought process.

My siblings with Tim and I on our wedding day.
My sister and I are four years apart, and I don't think she harbors any long-standing animosity toward me for ruining her "only child" world. One of my brothers is 23 months younger than me, and while we definitely had rough patches growing up, it wasn't always awful. While he might not agree, I like the fact that being two grades apart yielded similar activities and some overlapping groups of friends - we were in band together, he played baseball for the team I was a statistician for, etc. The surprise sibling in my family is 17 years younger than me - and even that gap has pros and cons.

Young Tim and Todd :)
Tim and his brother are about two years apart. Tim had a built-in teammate and thinks the fact that he had competition - in sports, academics, etc. - was a good thing.

For all of the good and not so good (again, morning sickness dread), I definitely hope that we're graced with the chance to experience it all at least one more time. I feel like once we get pregnant, it's going to go super fast. There won't be the time to dream of how to decorate a nursery, plans for a baby registry, etc. This isn't our first time at the rodeo - but that's why it will be all the more fun, exciting and challenging, with knowing what to expect but not knowing what to expect at the same time. 

We're not jumping on the baby train just yet, but I do sometimes find myself thinking of the future in terms of "If I was pregnant ..." or "If we had two kids ..." A year ago, I would not have been ready to even contemplate having another. And there are days when I can't imagine where the energy will come from to take care of two kids. There are moments when I realize how much stuff we have in our small condo that belongs to Elle and realize that it will only increase with another kid. But I also keep in mind how much joy that little girl has brought to so many people. And I remember how magical the whole experience is, fatigue and nausea and labor included. I've managed to forget the pain of labor and only vaguely recall how difficult it is to function when I don't get good, consecutive sleep.

All this being said, I've got about four future kids named and about a half dozen fun ways to reveal a pregnancy just waiting for a need to be used :)

Friday, July 29, 2011

Random randomness, 7.29.11

Get a clue: I'm signed up for various weekly and monthly e-mails from different companies and Web sites. This week, I received a particularly annoying one - why e-mail me with "tips for a great 1st birthday bash!" 10 days before my baby's birthday?! Shouldn't I figure most of that out before then? Not like I have 12 months to think about it or anything, dear e-newsletter.

I'll have what she's having ... or not: Usually, when we go out to eat, I order something that I can share with Elle. On our last morning in Ohio, though, we met up with Tim's cousins at IHOP, and I didn't want to share with Elle. So I ordered something for her off the kids' menu ... for the first time EVER. Baby is growing up, folks! She devoured it. I was so proud :)

The heat did it: I swear Elle came back from Ohio weighing more and with thicker hair. Tim and the babysitter agree.

Absolutely adorable: Remember this post, when I was saddened by the fact that I didn't have a camera to capture a few "awww"-worthy moments on the plane? On the return flight, I nudged Tim, and we got these photos of Sleeping/Flying Beauty:



Travel note 1: I must thank the people of the world who fly and happily make silly faces and wave at my child. Elle's a great traveler, but when you're stuck in a confined area for an hour or two, and Mommy and Daddy are boring the crap out of you, that person playing peek-a-boo in the seat behind you just provided you a priceless minute of comic relief. And the kid in the row next to you looks just goofy enough in his hat to give her a 30-second reason to smile.

Travel note 2: I also must thank the people of the world who don't fly, allowing my little family of three to take up an entire row on the plane, thus giving Little Miss her own seat to stretch out in.

Dessert decisions: While in Ohio, Elle celebrated her birthday with both sides of the family. With my family, she had traditional cake. With Tim's family, she had ice cream cake. So we were trying to figure out what she should have on her actual birthday. Tim came up with the perfect answer (and conveniently, it's HIS favorite, so he can "help" her): Cheesecake. "I know two things: My baby loves cheese, and my baby loves cake," he told me.

Frequent flyer: With this last trip, Elle has been on four round-trip plane rides in her 12 months of out-of-the-womb life. (She was also on three flights while I was pregnant with her.) That's four times more than I flew in my entire first 22 years of life. We've got another trip planned for 2011, and then who knows how many times she'll fly the friendly skies next year?!

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Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Bloggy friendship: Country is a State of Mind

A few months ago, I received a comment on one of my posts about one of our trips to Ohio. The commenter told me she was pretty sure we were from the same area - and after comparing notes, we concluded that we definitely are - we were even in the marching bands of rival universities :) I started following her blog, Country is a State of Mind, and she followed mine. She said to let her know the next time I visited my parents.

A few weeks ago, I posted about an upcoming trip to Ohio, and Christy commented to let her know if I would be free to meet up. We exchanged a few e-mails and arranged for an ice cream date. I've never met a fellow blogger except the people I already knew before they had blogs (Meg, Valli), so I was excited to get together with Christy and Blaine.

Elle and I met up with Christy and Blaine and had a blast. It's so nice to meet someone when you read about their lives on such a regular basis, and especially nice to find out that they're as cool as you think they are :) Christy is a totally normal, down-to-earth person who I felt extremely comfortable talking with, and Blaine is adorable and absolutely full of energy. I got a scary glimpse of my future as I watched Christy chase an extremely proficient walking and running Blaine all over the place :)

Here are some of the photos Christy and I took:
I guess the secret is out:
Elle and I shared a chocolate cone.
Blaine taught Elle the super fun trick of sticking
your hand in a water bottle - something she
continued to do for the rest of our trip, haha.
It's hard taking photos of moving monkeys!
At this point, someone started taking self-portraits,
and I knew that we had moved in to silly-need-a-nap-mode.
It was really neat to take some time from the general crazy nature of our trip and be able to chat about blogging, pregnancy, breastfeeding and general raising-a-babyness. It made me yearn for a real-life mommy/baby group with my favorite bloggers and their babies. (I think this should happen, don't you agree?) Elle didn't really know what to think about Blaine (she was dealing with a general dislike for grass and a growing need for an afternoon nap), but I am extremely glad we got to meet up with them, and hope to do it again on future trips to Ohio.  

P.S. Beware, oh, blog world, you're going to have to deal with a lot of posts recapping our trip to Ohio, as well as an emotional spew of posts about how my dear sweet baby is turning ONE this weekend. Seriously. Like, lots of posts about both subjects. Considered yourselves warned :)

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Travel log, 7.17.11

I'm facing a bit of technical difficulty/laziness in uploading the majority of my photos right now, but rest assured, there are plenty, and they are super cute. So for now, you get another "random observations about my life and traveling" post. This also means you'll get a few posts full of pictures whenever I'm able to upload everything.

You're welcome.

* * *

Dear Mom and Dad,
I know we had a talk earlier about getting central air, but I just wanted to make sure you remembered it.
Love,
Your daughter who has no idea how she lived without it for the majority of the first 25 years of her life.

* * *

After my day 'o travel with Elle, I was nostalgic for the time when I was the young woman on a layover carrying one bag, one latte and one paperback book or magazine to read while tucked away in an area near my gate. Instead, I had one stroller, one baby and one uber large bag with contents unknown trying to let her daughter expend every last inch of energy before boarding the plane. I'm thankful for Elle, but I have a new appreciation for the days when my biggest concern was vanilla latte or caramel macchiato.

* * * 

I should be pumping right now. But I'm not! It's the end of my end-of-the-night pumping session. Last night was the last one I plan on doing. When I return to work, I'll continue the once-a-shift pumping schedule until the end of the month, and then I'll gradually phase that one out, too. (Hi. I'm slightly excited about this.)

* * *

Elle is usually a pretty, um, "regular" baby. But for the two days before we left Florida, we had very little action on the bowel front. I was terrified that she'd unleash a fury of digestive activity on the plane and leave solo travelin' mama with all of the fun. Alas, little girl waited until the next day to work on things, and life is good again. (Thank you, sweet baby.)

* * * 

The cleaning of my old closet did commence, and I found some super funny stuff. If the National Scrunchy Society is looking for donations, I'm alllll over that. And apparently I went through quite a beading phase in middle and/or high school. My apologies to Belinda Carlisle and Paula Abdul, as well as all of the super cool mixed tapes that bit the dust in the cleanse. But hooray! I found three of my old Barbies and my two-legged Ken doll (What? You didn't have a one-legged Ken doll that didn't survive adolescence?!) as well as some accessories that I can pass on to Elle.

* * *

The weather in Ohio was glorious when we arrived. Warm, but not too hot, and warm, but not humid. (These things are big for me.) On Thursday morning, I headed out for a run in my childhood neighborhood. I mentally planned out my route, including my warm up, and set off after Elle was down for her morning nap. My mentally proposed warm up went by in a flash - it seems my old neighborhood is a lot smaller than I remember it. That meant I had to rethink the rest of my run, too, but it was weird being back in the old 'hood as a 30-year-old runner, as opposed to the child or teenager who walked it or biked to and from friends' houses. I saw houses for sale, houses that have been remodeled and houses that no longer belong to people I know. I didn't start running until a few years ago, so pounding the pavement here was a totally different experience, and it took me back down memory lane a bit. Tim and I went out for a run yesterday morning, and that one struck me because it was a) the first time we've really worked out together in almost a year (since the day before Elle was born, really) and b) a chance to voice to him all of the differences that exist between my "then" and the neighborhood's "now."


* * * 

Tim and I came home from a wedding last night and headed to bed soon after. Elle is bunking in a pack-n-play in the same room as us, and apparently we caught her mid-sleep cycle because she started to stir. We tried to silently peel back the covers and crawl in to bed without a sound, but it didn't work. She KNEW we were there, and she was awake and wanted to party. We got her to quiet down and steered back toward Dreamland ... but about 35 minutes later, after I thought she had long been asleep, she had a two-minute conversation with herself that consisted of repeated strains of: "Giggle giggle. *haha* Giggle. Whee be doo beeeeee. Giggle. *ha*." It was hard not to laugh, or even turn to Tim and say, "What the heck?!" But I didn't dare chance engaging her.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Travel log, 7.13.11

Yesterday I sent this text to a close friend: "Remind me to tell you about the time I accidentally called a sex hotline from a work phone."

To give background on how my standard Tuesday turned in to potentially disastrous chaos, I will tell you that I was checking in for a flight online. I was reviewing baggage policies, because when you travel with an infant, you basically bring half a condo's worth of stuff, and with baggage fees the way they are, there's no way I was going to get blind-sided with an unexpected fee.

The particular airline that we're flying made it harder than necessary to find the policy on baby gear, but finally I found information: Car seats and strollers checked free of charge, portable cribs and other gear treated like additional baggage.

Lamesauce.

But I wanted to call and make sure that was a current policy - I like to be silly and think that people can be nice sometimes and do things that you might not expect, like expand their baby gear policies when other airlines are raising their checked bags fees or are starting to charge for carry ons and such.

So I went in to our department's conference room and dialed the number I had found for AirTran.

It was sooooo not AirTran. I'll leave the rest to your imaginations, but the first words were, "Hey there, sexy man, hold on the line until one of our operators can answer ..."

Eek. Turns out the REAL AirTran phone number is just two digits off of the one I had originally found, but those digits are uber important, especially when you are trying to make a legitimate phone call from a work phone. Oopsie.

(And FYI, policy is up to date - portable cribs are treated like like an additional piece of checked baggage.)

* * *

I was talking to my mom yesterday about our travel plans and accommodations while we're in town. She was telling me about all of the clutter that apparently is driving her nuts in the rooms that my siblings and I occupied when we were living at home.

Essentially, she told me that while I was visiting home, I was going to have to clean my room.

* * *

Traveling by myself with Elle is exhausting. I honestly don't know if I'll do it again. 

We were over traveling before we even boarded for our second flight.
And I like to send Tim photos of our adventures when he can't be with us :)
She's a good traveler, but heck, I wasn't looking forward to the car ride to the airport, the flight, the layover, the other flight and final arrival at my parents' house. I can't imagine being wee little and full of energy and getting shuttled around during all of that when all you want is milk, your toys, your crib and your crawling space.

 I'm not above bribing her with food in situations like this, but thankfully, it didn't come to that. She slept for the entire first flight, was a bit impatient during our layover when I wouldn't let her crawl in to the crowds of people who barely look in front of them - never mind below them, and slept for 25 minutes of our last flight and then spent the remainder of the time charming our fellow travelers.
Eating lunch on our layover.
But it's the mere fact that I've got to be "on" the whole time - if I don't bring my 'A' game, we're sunk. When she woke up less than halfway in to our second flight, I had to devise ways to distract her and pace myself so I wouldn't run out of material before the plane landed. All this on three and a half hours of sleep and a temporary numbness on my left side from hauling all of our gear while pushing the stroller up and down the terminal for our three hour layover. (I thought lunch would take longer. It felt like it took longer. But apparently that was only 20 minutes of our layover. GAH.)

It's not any more fun, but it's such a relief to know there's shared responsibility and another option when Tim travels with us (like he will be on our return flight). You know, because then there's an extra lap to pass her off on instead of just my boring, tired one.

* * *

Watching Elle sleep during the first flight took me back to her newborn days. I wish I had been able to reach my phone or camera (or been traveling with someone, say, my husband, who could have done it for me) to take photos of her little lips pouted crookedly and smashed in to my shoulder. Or her "eating in her sleep" movements. Or to merely document how absolutely OUT she was - there was no noise and no movement that could wake her up until soon after we had arrived at our gate.

I tried to memorize the curves of her face, her peaceful expression and her chubby little cheeks, because Baby Girl is almost ONE. This kind of stuff doesn't happen every day anymore. 

* * *

I feel like I'm being scrutinized when I'm in situations with masses of people, like an airport. Am I engaging my child enough for people? Am I one of "those people" who is annoying because I talk to my kid constantly? ("What do you want for lunch, Elle?" or a strategic "Oh, you're so tired - you're going to conk out as soon as we get in the air, aren't you?" in front of worried-looking fellow passengers. P.S. She did.) Am I letting her crawl around on floors that no child should be caught crawling on? Am I encouraging her to play nice with other littles who are running around the airport and stop by to look at her toys? Do I practice proper diaper changing etiquette in the large restrooms that my child HATES?

And then I realize I don't care. It's my kid, my beliefs, my diaper changing routine, and I'll never see these people again. It's an airport, not an institution of child development and infant manners, and my child is pretty freaking happy considering she's been stuck around all of those judgmental people and her wacky, tired mama all day, and I'll take that over someone's approval any day.

* * *

The airport setting turned out to be Elle's worst nightmare. Hundreds of people, both big and small, scurrying around her, and yet ONLY A HANDFUL PAID ATTENTION TO HER. From what I could see behind the stroller, she was putting on quite a performance: Waves, coy smiles, flexibility demonstrations, nomming on toe tricks and general babbling. Yet even the people who gave her a return smile or remarked "look at that cute baby" were gone in a flash, swallowed up by their connecting flight or mission to baggage claim.

Poor baby. 
The day of travel finally ended and Elle got some much-deserved fresh air and space.
Tim responded to this photo with a "Get her inside!!! Mountain lion!!!" text, haha.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

My Pumping Prison

I've mentioned before how much I hate pumping. And every time I think that, I remind myself of the Super Women Exclusive Pumpers who pump many more times a day just so that their babies can have their breast milk, and I tell myself to suck it up and stop whining.

But it occurred to me that I've never really shared much information about the dungeon in which I pump :)

I must say that I am extremely grateful that my workplace provides a specific area for nursing mothers to pump. Federal law requires all employers to allow nursing mothers to take unpaid breaks, and I *believe* Florida law requires any company with more than 50 employees to provide a place for breastfeeding mothers to nurse or pump.

When I first found out I was pregnant, I knew I wanted to breastfeed, including long after my maternity leave would end. I suddenly started looking at my workplace with new eyes. I looked for outlets, for tucked away conference rooms, for bathrooms that received little to no traffic. I feared that I would be stuck sitting in one of the bathrooms, pumping 2-3 times a shift.

A few months in to my pregnancy, I was talking to a friend in human resources about my short-term disability coverage and other specifics of my maternity leave. I mentioned something about planning to breastfeed and her eyes lit up. She asked if I knew about the nursing mother's room.

"The what?" I said.

She took me down a hallway and we ended in front of a door I'd never seen before. There was a sign:


And then she showed me the mini-fridge, the outlets, how the door locked, etc. And while it's nice to have the designated space to pump, I've had several problems:

1. It's ug-lay. This room has no personality, no charm, no warmth. It barely has cell phone reception.

You know you're jealous.
2. The arm chair is good for naps, but not for pumping. It tilts back too far to comfortably pump anything, so that leaves ...

3. The uncomfortable office chair.

4. The security guards (and some former staffers - former, because apparently they were caught) apparently use the room for naps. I found this out one afternoon when I opened the door and a big, burly security guard acted in surprise, saying he was taking a snooze between shifts. I said, "Sorry, but I need to use this room right now." I don't have anything against expectant moms using the room - goodness knows if I knew this room existed when I was in the throes of all day morning sickness, I would have retreated there myself - but I'm not a fan of people looking for a cushy chair parking themselves in there.

5. The room is on the deserted first floor. I work on the third floor, and I often feel like I'm being banished to the basement when I go pump.

There aren't a lot of women in my building who use the room - by my count, there have been three other women who have pumped during my (now 11!) months using the room. I work nights and weekends, and the other moms work Monday-Friday day shifts. I'm sure I could have livened the room up a bit - brought in some posters, fake flowers, air fresheners, lamps, etc. But I don't know what other people like/don't like. Maybe one of the other pumping mamas has a traumatic childhood memory of tulips. Or one of the mamas is sensitive to the smell of a plug-in air freshener? Best not to mess with the room, I decided.

I don't really have fond memories of this room. There have been at least two times when I knocked something over or a storage bag tipped, and I lost precious ounces of milk.
Sad face. Very, very sad face.
The first time this happened, my sister sent me a hilarious card, and it is so, so true:


I was lying awake in bed the other night and calculated the rest of my pumping days (that's how eager I am to be done with the pump). We're going on a trip in a few weeks, and I need to keep up my extra pumping session (the one I do on my way home from work during my work week to keep me from getting too engorged over night) until I have enough milk for 2-3 bottles while we're on the trip. Then I can drop that session. And when we come back to Florida right before (gasp!) Elle's first birthday, I will likely stop pumping at work, too - leaving only 2-3 nursing sessions a day for the foreseeable future. I'm not going to stop breastfeeding automatically at one year - but I not going to stay married to the pump.

My pumping sessions have sometimes brought a much-needed break from work, but it would be nice to not be a necessary break. I work at a newspaper, and the natural course of my shift ebbs and flows, but sometimes there is breaking news and I'm not able to get away to pump. This gets more common in the fall, with hectic football and baseball schedules, and lately I've been stressing about stepping away from my desk to pump. So pumping is not only a pain, it's going to become increasingly more difficult to do in the coming months. My work-time pumping gave me a chance to read books, clip coupons, cross-stitch and catch up on little stuff that I never stop long enough to finish at home, like thank you notes and grocery lists. But that was the only perk. I trek down three flights of stairs each day, lock myself in the window-less room and sit there for 20-30 minutes. On my way in to my office, I stop there and drop my pump off. On my way out of the office, I stop and pick up my pump, pump parts and refrigerated milk. (And let's not even get in to the pain that is the preparing of bottles, cleaning of pump parts and freezing of milk, because 'tis not fun.)

So while I'm glad that I've been able to pump and supply breast milk for Elle (and others!), I am counting down the days til I don't have to worry about it anymore. I have no idea how I've done it this long (except for the fact that I'm incredibly stubborn and kept thinking 'I've made it this far, I should just keep going'). It's been extremely important to me to breastfeed Elle for the first year of her life, but I would be lying if I said I didn't want to stop pumping ASAP.

I have mad respect for moms who exclusively pump - you women rock.And I hope your pumping set-up is a little cheerier than mine :)

Friday, May 27, 2011

Parenthoodlyness

Before Elle was born, I would go to the post office, grocery store, doctor, etc. without much conversation with strangers. When you have a baby, though, EVERYONE wants to talk to you. Actually, even if you're just sticking-out-to-here with baby belly, EVERYONE wants to talk to you.

When you're pregnant, everyone gives you advice. The focus is on you - make sure you rest, make sure you enjoy every minute, make sure you do/don't get an epidural, you look great, you look like you're about to pop, you're going to love being a parent, you're never going to sleep again.

Out-Of-Utero-Baby rocking
a decidedly pink outfit.
When you're toting around Out-Of-Utero-Baby, though, the attention is allllll on the baby. And understandably so. "Oh, the baby is soooo cute!" "She looks like a good baby." "Does she sleep well?" "She has such pretty eyes." At this point, the parents get indirect attention and must learn how to handle the awkward comments/compliments/questions from perfect strangers (that, my friends, could be an entire series of blog posts).

(And if you're like us and seemingly dress your daughter in frilly, girly - dare I say pink - clothes all the time EXCEPT when you go to the grocery store, you'll never visit the deli counter again without being told you have an handsome son. Seriously. Almost without fail, when we go to Publix, Elle is mistaken for a boy because she's in blue/red/not-something-pink-or-purple/flowery. We're starting to intentionally plan her wardrobe for grocery days. Sorry, Baby Girl!)

But there's an entirely different level of conversation that now takes place - the one between parents.

In my observations, there are virtually no boundaries when you're talking to other parents. If I go to the doctor, I keep to myself and thumb through a magazine or play with my phone while in the waiting room. This week, though, I had to take Elle to the pediatrician, and it was instant conversation with the mom of a 9-month-old boy, Cole, and a family with a 3-year-old girl and 9-month-old girl.

Cole's mom and I talked about the nine-month vaccinations; the eating habits of our kids; the fact that Cole likes to be on his back or standing, while Elle would rather sit or crawl. Cole's full head of hair made Elle look like James Taylor. I watched the 9-month-old baby girl stand and play with toys in the waiting room, marveling at how tall she is (30.5 inches!). She was quiet but alert and had intense, bright blue eyes. These babies were less than four weeks apart in age but allll over the board in terms of development, habits and size.

But this is what makes this little "secret society" so fascinating - each kid is so different, such an individual, but the bond of parenthood? It unites. Like Super Glue. I've always said that kids are great conversation starters, but I never knew just how true that was until I had Elle. I love sharing that "Mom-bond" with others, but I have to admit I'm still a little taken aback by the conversation. I'm not sure how much to volunteer, what to say that won't be judged, what to ask that doesn't make me look lame or a newbie. Cole's mom talked about how he eats nine jars of food a day; with baby-led weaning, I don't measure in jars. She mentioned how many ounces he drank in his bottles; since I breastfeed Elle, I don't have the same measurements.

Then a couple emerged from the examination rooms with a car seat containing a 6-pound, 7-ounce, one-week-old baby boy, and the bond re-emerged. We stopped and looked at the tiny baby and wondered how our nine-month-olds were ever that small. I always hated when people told me Elle was "so small" when she was two weeks old, one month old, etc. But here we were: The annoying parents of no-longer-newborns, talking about mobility, solids and teeth, in awe of this tiny wonder.

Elle continues to grow, from that newborn in to a (gasp) almost-10-month-old joy, but the many sides of parenthood? Also evolving.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Nostalgic musings

Almost exactly a year ago, I finished my last class for my Web design certificate, quit my part-time job and went on a babymoon to Atlanta. (Wow, that was only a year ago?!)

That sudden amount of free time allowed me to dive in to working on Elle's nursery. I tackled several decorative aspects and then went crazy assembling furniture.

When I put together the crib, Tim was at work. About every 10 minutes, I debated waiting to finish the crib until Tim came home, because there were parts that would really have been a lot easier as a two-person job.

"Hey guys! I'm done
with my nap now!"
Last week, I had to LOWER THE CRIB MATTRESS. Because about two days after Elle started sitting up in her crib - a position we'd find her in when we went to get her in the morning and when she woke from naps - I found her pulling up on the crib. (In fact, I apparently scared her when I found her like that - I was shocked at what I was seeing! - and she started bawling when I walked in.) Although "Lower the crib mattress" was on my to-do list for my days off, it was suddenly thrust to the top of the list and was done before she went to bed that night.

But as I did it, I remembered, again, that it would have been easier with two people (although honestly, it wasn't bad with one person compared to the initial crib assembly). And I remembered putting all of the furniture in that nursery together, when I was still pregnant. Now there's this nine-month old living in that room, a little girl I had to try to preoccupy so she wouldn't crawl around the crib while I was working. 

Those nine months of pregnancy? I thought those went fast. Then I had a baby. And seemingly the next day, I was lowering the mattress.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Baby stuff

Sophie is missing!: We've issued an APB for everyone's favorite over-priced giraffe teether. We've looked high and low, but we're continuing the search - I mean, a rubbery giraffe can't just vanish in to thin air, can it?! My best guesses are that Sophie is hiding in one of our cars (although we've both looked several times) or went for a walk or grocery shopping adventure with Elle ... and didn't come back. Either way, it's sad. I felt like it was worth the investment to get another Sophie (especially since the Orajel option is now out), and then if we find the original Sophie, we'll have a backup.


Sucker: Elle is sick. (I am, too, but at least I can blow my nose.) So we've been dealing with her congestion, and like many babies, she's not a fan of saline drops or the bulb sucker. While she isn't sick very often, I hate seeing her in agony, and I also hate wrestling my own daughter just to get within bulb-sucking distance of her nose. Enter the Nosefrida (aka "The Snotsucker"). I'd heard about this and read about it and was totally grossed out by it, so I dismissed it, chalking it up to "something that might work for other parents but we definitely just did not need it." With this latest round of snot, I asked some other mom friends, though, explaining that Elle a) hates having her face messed with, b) doesn't get sick often and c) has a promising career in martial arts with all of the defensive moves she puts up to keep me out of her nose.

The consensus was Nosefrida for the win. While the concept is gross, they agreed, they say that is it less intrusive (doesn't even go in the actual nostril - you just hold it up to the end of it), and it's much more effective, so you don't have to use it as often, which I know Elle will appreciate. And my favorite review on Amazon mentioned "examining it for a long time to make sure snot wouldn't go up my nose."

I'll report back on our snotsucking adventures, although I'm hoping by the time it arrives Elle will be over this cold.

Anyone have a Nosefrida experience to share?

Also baby-related: I'm holding out hope that someone will walk in the Blogger office on Monday morning and decide to restore my "Elle's nine month stats" post, but if it doesn't happen, I'll re-publish it soon. I rescued most of it from Google Reader but need to reformat some of it, so fear not! The story of my big-headed daughter will return.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

The Kristin Sleep Academy

AKA "Our experience with sleep training."

Warning: This is probably going to be uber long and provide more details than you want, but I wanted to give a complete look at the background behind our experience and choices and my rambling pertinent details. That's why you're getting about eight months of sleep history and the summary and logic behind about four different sleep approaches in one exciting blog post :) And disclaimer: Please don't get all Judgey McJudgerson on me. I'm not sharing this to be criticized or proclaim that I'm an Infant Sleep Expert, I'm sharing our decisions and experiences by request.

When we first found out we were expecting, I thought we wanted to follow the attachment parenting school of thought. I read books, talked with other parents, etc. When it comes to sleep, attachment parenting means no crying it out, so I never really paid much attention to talk of sleep training or CIO except to know that I wanted no part of CIO.

After Elle was born, I soon realized that across the board, we aren't any "kind" of parents. We might do things that are associated with certain parts of "crunchy parenting," "natural parenting," "attachment parenting," etc., but bottom line? We're Tim-and-Kristin parenting. We can't be lumped under a label, but everything we do is in the best interest of Elle.

Elle has been a decent sleeper from the time she was about 5 or 6 weeks old. We were grateful for the early, five-hour stretches of sleep she gave us and knew how lucky we were when they soon grew to 6-, 8-, even 10 hour stretches before she was two months old, and she hasn't needed a consistent night feeding since then. But I've tried not to talk about the specifics of her sleep with others because I a) know we've been lucky, b) feared I would jinx it and c) read a parenting article while I was pregnant that really stuck with me. The article touched on the obvious - good sleepers will sometimes have bad nights or rough patches. But the biggest thing I took from it was to think about how other parents would feel, not just with sleep but with all of those baby milestones/developments/general happenings: "Her baby was sleeping through the night x months ago - what are we doing wrong?!" And I know I've been there - "That boy was sitting up on his own way before Elle - is she 'OK'?" Or "I don't think Elle will ever use a sippy cup - will she be using bottles at age 5?!" And "Elle didn't double her birth weight by six months - does that mean I'm giving my daughter 'skim' breastmilk?!" In new-parent anxiety, compounded by sleep deprivation, I could totally see how my mere mention of Elle's solid sleep could unintentionally tweak some raw emotions. So we didn't really talk about it with others unless specifically asked.

I was familiar with the 90-minutes NAPS plan because of my breastfeeding support group. I read part of and watched the DVD for "Happiest Baby on the Block." Then I read "Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child." Basically, all of this made me really obsessive, boring to talk to and focused on Elle's sleep cycles. I'm fascinated by infant sleep, but it also terrifies me :)

All of the reading I did boiled down to a few key facts (some of which defied logic, in my opinion, but they really worked), like an overtired baby will have more trouble sleeping, and better "day sleep" equals better "night sleep." There is also a common misconception (Tim LOVED to try to tell me this) that if you put a baby to bed later, they'll sleep in. Not so much. They're overtired, so no dice. Many sleep books actually encourage earlier bedtimes for babies. In our experience, we kind of had to figure out what worked for Elle, and what worked for us, and we've settled in to a bedtime of around 8 p.m.

Basically, with infant sleep, the issue is that babies are dealing with a lot - motor and language devleopments and all that jazz -  and they need a lot of time to rest their brains. If they don't get it, they have a harder time "shutting down," and that's where a lot of the sleep problems pop up. The idea of no more than 1-2 hours of "awake time" between naps was a huge part of the Healthy Sleep Habits book, and even at about 5 months, Elle needed three naps - one about every two hours.

As my maternity leave was winding down, I tried to be more consistent with when and where Elle napped. Previously, she slept anywhere and everywhere: PNP, arms, swing, bouncy seat, floor, crib. Now almost all naps happen in the crib. Occasionally, she will nap when we're out and about, but I think the association of "the crib is for sleeping" has helped (at least, I like to think so). We wrestled with the "45-minute intruder" (aka another thing I never knew about until I had a kid), too. But overall, at several months old, naps and night sleep were going pretty well, especially considering Elle was typically watched by three people during the day: Me, from morning until mid-afternoon; a sitter, from mid-afternoon until early evening; and Tim, from early evening until bedtime. After reading Healthy Sleep Habits, I'd learned how to tune in to her sleep signals a bit better and could sometimes catch her at justtherighttime to put her down for her morning nap ... and she'd fall asleep on her own.

But even with her fairly stellar sleeping, we had some obstacles. Around the time Elle was four months old, we hit a mega bumpy patch. We almost always rocked Elle to sleep. Her naps were short, so it often felt like we spent more time rocking her to a deep sleep than she actually slept. And the nights were a completely different story - Elle would wake up every 45-60 minutes for the first 3-5 hours after bedtime, which meant we (and it was mostly Tim, as I worked nights) would rock her back to sleep ... and back to sleep ... and back to sleep. Usually around midnight or 1 a.m., she'd conk out for the night, going a 5-7 hour stretch without waking. She was getting enough sleep, but it wasn't good, unbroken, solid sleep. The times she wasn't rocked to sleep were the times she fell asleep while nursing or drinking her bottle.

"Daddy, this cradling stuff is crap.
Let me play with your hat instead
of napping at this baseball game!"
So I sought out help with the obstacles. I searched the internet. I posted on chat boards. I read books. I polled friends. This was awesome, because I received feedback on specific books and experiences, but I also received priceless responses like "as long as you're not a zombie and Elle isn't a zombie, you're fine." Another said "If you think about it, all of those authors are just trying to make money - so OF COURSE they're going to try to sell you on this or that sleep technique or method." And those thoughts, and many others, made me realize I needed to chill and remind myself that Elle was a tiny baby, going through some hard times. But truth be told, I also knew that most sleep training resources say it should be done between four and six months of age, so Tim and I decided that at four months, it just felt like Elle was too young, not ready. But we'd re-evaluate, talk with the pediatrician, and revisit the subject closer to her six-month birthday.

Right before Elle's six-month birthday, Tim got his promotion, which would require him to work nights. With me working nights, Tim working nights, and the babysitter that we had been using since Elle was 10 weeks old leaving for grad school in a month, we had a stark truth: Someone new was going to be putting our baby to bed more than 50% of the time. We interviewed sitters, and there was one that fit most of our criteria, but she didn't have as much experience with infants as our previous sitter, and during the "trial sitting sessions," she struggled to get Elle to nap. I like the sitter, but I stressed about my poor baby's sleep. As we narrowed down our choices for the sitter to replace our current sitter, this was a BIG thing for me.

Also around this time, Elle had her six-month pediatrician appointment. Dr. P. told me that if we were going to do sleep training, we needed to do it soon, because around 8-9 months, separation anxiety sets in, and that can be a whole other can of worms to deal with on top of sleep training. Dr. P. also cautioned that it was a lot easier to say you'll let them cry than to do it, but if you're going to do it, you have to be strong about it. I was concerned that Tim would "cave," but as I talked with the doctor that day, I swallowed hard and realized it was going to be a challenge for me, too, despite the knowledge that this wasn't going to ruin Elle, and it was going to make our situation better. A few rough days for a long-term payoff, right?

I really wanted to hire the sitter - but there was that anxiety that she'd never get my daughter to sleep. And I really wanted us to enjoy our time with Elle - honestly, some days, rocking her to sleep ... and to sleep ... and to sleep again for naps or bedtime was a bit stress-inducing. Don't get me wrong - we love her to death and know that we need to cherish the moments when she's young and cuddly. But we both work full-time, have some mandatory household-related stuff that need to be done (bill-paying, trash-taking-out, dish-washing, laundry-doing, etc.), and there were days when that just wasn't getting done, because she needed us to rock her back to sleep. Or we'd be tense and stressed because we weren't sure if *thistime* was the time she'd actually stay down. We don't get to spend much time as a couple, and much of it was being spent saying "Is it your turn?" or "I'll rock her this time." As much as I love to spend time with my baby, this wasn't the way I wanted to be doing it.

And in the end, sleep training came down to what worked best for us as a family. 

We decided that rather than use the cry it out method described in Healthy Sleep Habits, we would use what is called "graduated extinction" - specifically, the Ferber method described in the book "Solve Your Child's Sleep Problems." Ferber doesn't encourage letting your baby just cry - the method includes checking on the baby at specific intervals, not only for their peace of mind, but your own: You make sure your baby isn't in danger, isn't sick, etc. But you make your checks very matter-of-fact, not a leisurely visit. 

I've struggled a lot with this. I feared Elle would come to hate me, avoiding direct eye contact during the day, rebelling at night. If I effed this up before her first birthday, how would she react the first time we told her she couldn't "buy this" or "do that" when a teen?! If changing a sleep association made her hate me, would she file to become an emancipated minor if we told her she couldn't pierce her belly button?! As you can see, I struggled with the emotional/relationship aspect quite a bit. But when it came to our decision, I know several things:

1. We never just let Elle cry. If she's hurt, sick, soiled, in danger, whatever, we attend to her immediately. She's never left to cry when something is wrong, whether it be playtime, naptime or bedtime. We don't foster a feeling of abandonment, so I don't fear that she will grow up to think that crying won't illicit a response from us. We DO respond to her. If she has trouble sleeping because she's ill, teething, whatever, we won't ignore her - there are exceptions to every rule, and we'll make them.
2. She had associated being rocked to sleep as the primary way to fall asleep. We merely needed to change the association. Much like Tim and I watch TV or read before bed, Elle needed to be rocked in order to fall sleep, which wasn't a problem unless it was a problem, which it was becoming.
3. Some people say that graduated extinction is worse than just leaving the baby to cry, saying that it is a tease to keep checking on the baby. And like the Ferber book said, her cries would often escalate when we'd enter the room and she realized we weren't there to pick her up. But I also knew that I couldn't just leave her to cry - I needed those intervals to make sure she was "OK" and was just crying because she was upset that she wasn't going to sleep the way she knew.
 4. Having her be able to self-soothe would alleviate my stress about her being with the sitter. It would alleviate my fear that she was sleep-deprived. It would make our time with her more enjoyable and less stressful. And she was capable of doing it.

She doesn't hate me! Or if she does it is
only because I kiss her too much.
This article also gave me strength as we prepared for sleep training (seriously - please read it). Kate, a blogger whom I agree with on a lot of parenting decisions and have tremendous respect for, had linked to it when her son was a few months old, and I shared it with Tim, too - this was one of those big parenting things that we needed to be on the same page. I've also read that sleep training is "necessary," acting as the first major way to show your child that you're in charge, a way of instilling a sense of discipline, which I don't really buy. Sure, you're creating structure, but I'm not sure I would say discipline. And I don't think sleep training is necessary at all for everyone - one article I read focused on the point that nursing a child to sleep isn't wrong, and no way of getting a child to sleep is wrong (CIO, rocking, nursing, etc.) as long as it works for everyone involved and will in the future. Ferber's book even comes right out and says if there is no sleep problem, you don't need to sleep train. But if a sleep association is disrupting the sleep of the baby or parents, causing the parents to be resentful of the baby, etc., it can be considered problematic.

Since I knew Elle was capable of falling asleep on her own, I had some hope that our experience with sleep training wouldn't be terrible. But I also know that when she cries that "Oh my God where are you Mom?" cry, it hits me so hard my uterus hurts. This girl has a stubborn streak (who knows where she gets that?!), and I couldn't blame her for clinging to the way she'd grown accustomed to going to sleep.

We had a perfect window of opportunity in early February. I knew that it would be easiest if Tim and I could start together to support each other. We weren't on the cusp of any travel or major changes. I knew it would be best (as Ferber suggests) to do it when we could afford to lose some sleep (Tim had three days of work and then a week of furlough, so he'd be off). And we were going to have the new sitter watch Elle at the end of February, so if we could have Elle's sleep association changed by then, I wouldn't spend the entire day with my stomach in a knot.

We also knew that if it didn't work, or if we gave it a try for a few days and it just didn't sit right with us, we could stop. We wanted to give it at least a week (and Ferber says results are usually seen within 3-4 days), and we figured seven days wouldn't make Elle hate us for life.

I'm very glad I read the Ferber book before we started sleeping training - I wanted to do it "right," and I wanted to be as educated as possible. There are specific increments to follow, limits for both night and nap sleep, ways to ease in and extend the program, etc. Although I first thought we'd focus on sleep training for bedtime and not worry about naps, I quickly decided if we were going to do this, we should go all in. I don't remember the exact intervals right now, but we followed them as directed.

So the first day was a Monday. Elle was six months and a few days old. I went through our bedtime routine - since we were taking away the rocking-to-sleep, I wanted to make sure there were solid associations to signal "It's bedtime." I rocked her for a few minutes, but I put her to bed awake but drowsy. And she cried. And cried. And cried. I fearfully looked at the clock, simultaneously wanting her to fall asleep and wanting my next check to arrive so I could make sure she was OK. Tim was working a night shift, so I paced by myself, trying to remind myself that I wasn't a terrible person for teaching my daughter a new way to go to sleep.

I checked on her three times. (I think the intervals were 3 minutes, then 5 minutes, then 10 minutes.) It took 25 minutes for her to fall asleep.

To be honest, I don't remember much about the naps during this time. I think it is because I continued to be able to get her at the "right time" to fall asleep on her own.

The second night of "sleep academy," Tim was home. I think Elle hoped that Daddy might respond to her, and believe me, he wanted to. He kept asking me if it had been "this bad" last night, and we both watched the clock as the intervals (this time slightly longer - I think 5 minutes, then 10 minutes, then 12 minute intervals) passed. I think that night there were periods of no crying followed by outbursts of extended crying, and it took about 45 minutes total for Elle to fall asleep. Tim and I looked at each other and wondered how the third night would go, knowing it could make or break all three of us.

The third night was Tim and Elle alone. I had to work, but Tim followed the bedtime routine and only had to check on her once (again with the slightly longer interval), and she was out within 17 minutes.

The next night was similar, with about nine minutes of crying. I think at this point, she woke up once about 90 minutes after falling asleep, let out a brief yell, and went back to sleep.

The next few nights included less crying - anywhere from 1-5 minutes. Tim was surprised at how relatively easy it had been for Elle to adapt to the new association, and I was just glad that Elle didn't seem to hate us.

Things have continued to go well. There was one night this week when Elle and I both had a cold, and she woke up twice, but she went back to sleep in less than a minute both times. I flashed back briefly to the days when we would run in the second we heard the monitor, hoping to get to Elle before she woke up too much. But now, we give her time to go back to sleep on her own. Two nights ago, she woke up at 4 a.m., and it was clear from her cry that she was not going to go back to sleep. We got her and fed her, and while I don't know what caused her to wake up, I do know that she wasn't crying just because she woke up and needed to be rocked back to sleep.

Aunt Marti reads Elle a bedtime story.
I continue to be fascinated by Elle's changes and sleep associations. In the last three weeks or so, she has refused to be cradled, which used to be the only way we could rock her when she was sleepy. Now (with me at least), she likes to lean against my chest as I rock her for a few minutes. She tucks her head under my chin and settles in. For the last week, she's been leaning in to me as soon as I turn the light off in the nursery and turn her little fan on. She used to take a pacifier at naps and bedtime. Now she snuggles in to me, sucking her thumb. And when I put her down in her crib, she'll cry sometimes, but not all the time, and I love watching her drowsily settle in for sleep, sucking her thumb and sticking her butt up in the air. I like to think that she knows that she needs this time and I'm doing it in her best interest. If she does cry when we put her in the crib, she stops almost as soon as Tim or I close the nursery door. With others, though, she'll continue to cry for a minute or two - I think because she's still holding out hope that they won't make her take her nap or go to sleep.
But the babysitter has no problem getting her to sleep now, and I think it has actually made her more in-tune to Elle's sleep cues. I think the sitter has less anxiety about getting Elle to sleep, and I think both she and Elle respond better in that situation. Elle sleeps about 11-12 hours at night and naps for a combined 2-3 hours during the day, and I truly look forward to putting her to sleep at night because it's a special time for us. I love the routine, love the way she responds to her lotion massage, her stories, the rocking and talking about the day. It has definitely changed the relationship I have with her sleeptimes, and while it was difficult and I could still probably convince myself to be for or against CIO, it worked for us. I would never tell someone it was easy, but I think having a "reminder mantra" or clear goal in mind helps with the cause - I knew that we realistically couldn't continue to rock Elle to sleep, and I knew that my biggest anxiety about the new sitter could be eased with changing Elle's sleep association.

I read "Solve Your Child's Sleep" around the same time I was reading "Baby-Led Weaning" and basically felt like I was eating, sleeping and breathing baby rearing. The librarians probably talked about me behind my back. But I feel more confident in our decisions because I've done so much research, and while I might spout off information that no one else cares about in casual conversation, I find it all to be ridiculously interesting. You can argue any side of almost any issue until you're blue in the face and still have more to discuss. I know it was hard to hear Elle cry, and some nights I miss rocking her (and I admit that sometimes, I'll rock her to sleep completely for naps and just treasure each second). But I also know that Elle is loved, we're happy parents, she's a happy baby, she's getting the sleep she needs, we're getting good sleep and there is a lot less anxiety in general now.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Awake Training for Parents

By request, I will blog about the Kristin Sleep Academy/sleep training. I have family in town but will try to do it in the next few days! For now, though, I will share this letter one of my friends from our mommy/baby group posted on Facebook. I'm not sure where she got it originally, but here's a laugh for you all:

Dear Fellow Babies,

OK, here's my situation. My Mommy has had me for almost 5 months. The first few months were great -- I cried, she picked me up and fed me, anytime, around the clock. Then something happened. Over the last few weeks, she has been trying to STTN (sleep thru the night). At first, I thought it was just a phase, but it is only getting worse.

I've talked to other babies, and it seems like its pretty common after Mommies have had us for around 5-6 months. Here's the thing: these Mommies don't really need to sleep. It's just a habit. Many of them have had some 30 years to sleep -- they just don't need it anymore. So I am implementing a plan. I call it the Crybaby Shuffle.

It goes like this:

Night 1 - cry every 3 hours until you get fed. I know, it's hard. It's hard to see your Mommy upset over your crying. Just keep reminding yourself, it's for her own good.
Night 2 - cry every 2 hours until you get fed.
Night 3 - every hour.

Most Mommies will start to respond more quickly after about 3 nights. Some Mommies are more alert, and may resist the change longer. These Mommies may stand in your doorway for hours, shhhh-ing. Don't give in. I cannot stress this enough: CONSISTENCY IS KEY!! If you let her STTN (sleep through the night), just once, she will expect it every night. I know it's hard! But she really does not need the sleep; she is just resisting the change.. If you have an especially alert Mommy, you can stop crying for about 10 minutes, just long enough for her to go back to bed and start to fall asleep. Then cry again. It WILL eventually work. My Mommy once stayed awake for 10 hours straight, so I know she can do it.

The other night, I cried every hour. You just have to decide to stick to it and just go for it. BE CONSISTENT! I cried for any reason I could come up with:
-My sleep sack tickled my foot.
-I felt a wrinkle under the sheet.
-My mobile made a shadow on the wall.
-I burped, and it tasted like rice cereal. I hadn't eaten rice cereal since breakfast, what's up with that?
-The dog said "ruff". I should know. My Mommy reminds me of this about 20 times a day. LOL.
-Once I cried just because I liked how it sounded when it echoed on the monitor in the other room.
-Too hot, too cold, just right -- doesn't matter! Keep crying!!
-I had drooled so much my sheets were damp and I didn't like it touching me.
-I decided I was sick of all the pink in my room so I cried.

It took awhile, but it worked. She fed me at 4am. Tomorrow night, my goal is 3:30am. You need to slowly shorten the interval between feedings in order to reset your Mommies' internal clocks.

Sometimes my Mommy will call for reinforcements by sending in Daddy. Don't worry Daddies are not set up for not needing sleep the way Mommies are. They can only handle a few pats and shhing before they declare defeat and send in the Mommy.

Also, be wary of the sleep sheep with rain noises. I like to give Mommy false hope that listening to the rain puts me to sleep sometimes I pretend to close my eyes and be asleep and then wait until I know Mommy is settling back to sleep to spring a surprise cry attack. If she doesn't get to me fast enough I follow up with my fake cough and gag noise that always has her running to the crib. At some point I am positive she will start to realize that she really doesn't really need sleep.

P.S. Don't let those rubber things fool you, no matter how long you suck on them, no milk will come out.

Trust me.

Sincerely,
Baby M

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