Chatting, Chowing Down, and Chasing Mr. Sandman
A SCENIC VIEW OF MY PAST
When I was ten or so, I became enamored with Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. I mean, who doesn’t get off on watching two hours of an eccentric Gene Wilder cavorting with absurdly tanned little people? I couldn’t get enough of it. I imagine the filmmakers intended for the majority of us to connect with the lead boy, Charlie, who was the model of all things pure and good. However, they didn’t account for my budding dark side. I managed to take on an odd preoccupation with Slugworth, the rival candy manufacturer who sends in spies to steal Mr. Wonka’s innovative confections. I wanted to have what he had—the mystery, the intrigue, the candy he so cunningly pilfered. So, in all of my ten-year-old wisdom, I set about finding a way to attain this lofty and inspired goal. As luck would have it, Halloween had just passed, so there were plenty of tasty sweets floating around our house. None of it belonged to me, of course, since I’d already mowed through every Kit Kat and Butterfinger I could get my filthy little hands on, but that didn’t matter to me. Where there’s a sinister streak, there’s a way—and my poor, innocent, five-year-old sister got caught in the crosshairs.
I started by writing a ransom note. It wasn’t just any old ransom note, mind you; it was a thing of beauty. I cut letters out from back issues of Highlights magazine and put them to good use. What’s the point of having Highlights to expand your mind if you can’t also reuse the pages to plot nefarious schemes? At least I was recycling. Next, I snuck into my sister’s room and stole her favorite stuffed animal, Ruff the Raccoon.
I know, I know. You’re probably thinking, This girl was Satan’s evil spawn! In my defense, I didn’t intend to be cruel. I was obsessed with Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys books, had a detective agency that I ran out of the cubbyhole beneath our stairwell, and actively sought ghosts in our historic town library. I was spellbound by thrillers and whodunits, so my pursuit of chocolate may have gotten slightly more creative than it should have. It doesn’t make it right, but I suppose my ten-year-old moral compass needed a little more directional work.
Anyway, I took Alyssa’s raccoon and hid him away in a safe location, otherwise known as my sock drawer. In his place, I left that ransom masterpiece I’d constructed, demanding all my sister’s Halloween spoils in exchange for her beloved companion. As if that weren’t bad enough, I pretended to find said letter, read it aloud to her in mock horror, and then suggested we wait out in the snow until the thief returned to collect his goods. After all, we couldn’t just let him get away with it. A bonbon burglar must be caught!
We’d been camped outside in the bitter cold for an hour or so when I declared my desperate need for a restroom. In a stroke of sheer genius, I ran inside to change into a dark trench coat and fetch the kidnapped, cotton-stuffed varmint. Tucking my hair up under a fedora, I raced around to the opposite side of our house and made my way up to the mailbox. Keeping my head down for anonymity’s sake, I hastily removed my ill-gotten cache of treats and jammed the raccoon into the cold, metal vault. I darted away before little Alyssa could see my face or shout for help, and let myself back into the house. By the time I’d taken off my coat and hat and made my way back outside to resume my position on the stakeout, my sister was bawling.
That night, I was bawling too, courtesy of my punishment. Since I’d been such a visionary in my kidnapping ploy, my dad was equally imaginative in his discipline. I was tasked with deveining several bags of shrimp for dinner. Which is, for those who may not know, the process by which one cleans out the poo-poo track. Talk about a shitty punishment. And learning the hard way.
CUT TO . . .
I didn’t know the true meaning of learning the hard way until I had to engage in a battle of my child versus the three Ss: speaking, sleeping, and snacking. You think seeing the Virgin Mary on a slice of Wonder Bread is a miracle? Try sleep-training your kid. That debacle will be closely followed by the first time your child repeats something she shouldn’t in front of your in-laws. And don’t get me started on the introduction of solid foods. My wardrobe will never be the same. Neither will my walls.
MY CRADLE CHRONICLES
Offhand, it may seem like there’s no correlation between your baby learning to talk, graduating beyond formula or breast milk, and learning to take naps on his own. But all three come with their own manner of chaos. And guess who’s tasked with cleaning up the mess?
LOOK WHO’S TALKING!
Who: Your kid.
What: God only knows. Your child’s first words can range from common ones such as no, or Mommy, to off-the-wall things like tickle, which was my first word. (I’m not sure what that says about me.) Other kids wait until they have something important to say before bothering to utter anything. We thought my little brother was mute until he was two years old, at which point he called out, “Mommy, I bumped my head!” He’s in good company. Einstein was supposedly several years old before he spoke as well, and the water-cooler gossip is that he said something akin to, “The soup is too hot.” Of course, that’s probably a tall tale, but it’s a fun one.
When: Anytime from roughly six months old on and, if you’re lucky, while you have the video camera at the ready. There were countless times we thought Gray said things that we can never prove, because we weren’t recording her at the time. Sadly, babies don’t have rewind buttons or closed-captioning options. I’d swear up and down, for example, that she said “turtle” at six months old, but only the bathtub and the rubber duckie and I were privy to it. And they still refuse to support my claims, those cheeky bastards. The fact is, sometimes a baby’s first words are a bit on the muddled side, leaving you to wonder if she said “Goo goo ga ga,” or “Look, there’s Lady Gaga!”
Where: You name it. The pantry, the dog park, the kitchenware aisle at Target . . . There’s really no telling where you’ll be when baby decides to start chatting it up. If good fortune is on your side, you won’t be in front of a crowd of people, because you’re likely to get misty-eyed about it. And weeping in front of the masses is a little embarrassing, unless you’re winning the Super Bowl. As a side note, once your child starts actively talking, there’s no filtering what he comes out with. This includes brilliant things like cuss words, explicitly detailed talk of poop and flatulence, what you and your husband heatedly said to one another during your last argument, and what you recently compared your stepmother to. Don’t let that angelic face fool you—a talking kid is a dangerous one!
How: Your kid finally decides he’s had enough wailing, grunting, gurgling, and squealing to last a lifetime and opts for something that sounds a little less like Planet of the Apes and a little more like something in the dictionary. That doesn’t mean you’ll necessarily understand it any better, but at least you’re all on the right track!
Everything in our lives revolves around words. Words can build relationships and tear them down. I once read that the average person says approximately sixteen thousand of them per day. Some folks, like a certain former speed-talking best friend I played in the ’90s, are probably spitting out significantly more than that. But words are the cornerstone of our relationships with one another, so when your baby starts speaking, it opens up a world of possibilities—and a seriously giant can of worms. Your child has spent months understanding far more than he could articulate, and suddenly he’s figured out how to interact with you on a completely different level. It’s equal parts fascinating and frustrating. Here’s my take on the drama, pitfalls, and violations (please don’t hate me) associated with it.
Cracking the code
Your child won’t wake up one morning and miraculously be able to quote Thoreau or take phone messages for you. There are various phases between newborn babble, Toddlerese, and what one might consider an effective conversation. I’ll just go ahead and cut to the chase—not all of them are decipherable. In fact, each time you think you’ve conquered your baby’s lingo, he’ll introduce a new and improved set of words that baffle you. You’ll ask baby to repeat himself a few times while you secretly wrack your brain for what an “Argpham” might be. It’s clearly something important, since he’s repeated it forty times in a row. Meanwhile, he’s busy gesticulating wildly, repeating that incomprehensible word another forty times in a row, and pitching a fit because he thinks you’ve turned into a moron during the last minute and a half. Cue the meltdown. No one enjoys being misunderstood! The only thing you can offer in this scenario is patience. Or a baby translator.
Talking back (the good kind)
Even if the only language your baby seems to be fluent in is something that sounds like Klingon, don’t be afraid to converse with him anyway. You don’t have to mimic his noises to join in; simply speak the way you normally would. Whatever you do, just don’t leave him hanging! I’ve seen a lot of parents fail to engage their baby because they forget those grunts and coos are his first attempts at eliciting a response. Even if your child can’t yet reciprocate with answers, she’s absorbing your cadence, vocabulary, and the sentiment behind your words. So tell her about your exciting day doing the laundry, making chicken pot pie, taking the trash out, and changing dirty diapers. Hell, recite some poetry or a scene from The Princess Bride if you want. She won’t really care what you’re saying, but she’ll enjoy hearing it!
Learning to listen
In observing a plethora of mothers talking to their infants, I’ve noticed a fairly common habit—what I’ve termed “the mommy monologue.” This consists of parents directing a series of statements or questions toward their child without ever pausing for a response; they just keep on talking. And talking. And talking. They deliver longer run-on sentences than my old Blossom character, which is downright freaky. I’m sure baby is thrilled to have the focused attention, but sometimes he wants a chance to participate too.
Even before our kids are capable of uttering coherent replies, I think it’s important to leave room for them to smile, gurgle, shake a rattle, or offer whatever form of answer they wish. Words aren’t the only way of saying important things like “I love you” and “I’m hungry!” Leaving a space in between sentences encourages them to respond in their own way. With that idea in mind, I made a point to curb my chatty nature (as much as that’s possible) when my girls were infants, because I wanted them to learn early on that conversations are a two-way street. I started posing questions and waiting to see what would happen. You know what I discovered? They instinctively knew I was leaving them an opening for feedback. By the time Marlowe was three months old, she would begin jabbering away and testing out new sounds each time I would address her!
Bye-bye, baby talk
I’ll just go ahead and state that we are not fans of baby talk in our house. We aren’t having esoteric discussions over cognac or anything, but we abide by the Dr. Seuss quote, “A person’s a person, no matter how small.” We’ve always spoken to our girls as equals (within reason, of course), while exercising care not to sacrifice our position as their parents. We don’t broach adult issues with our children—we stick to material that’s age-appropriate—but we try not to dumb down our vernacular or imitate childish voices in order to “be at their level.” I think you get the gist. Sure, we made tons of funny facial expressions and exaggerated our vocal inflections when they were infants, because babies respond to that. It gets their attention and lets them know we’re trying to connect with them. But I’m a firm believer that parents can encourage social development without emulating baby babble and without oversimplifying the way they speak. I always get a little cross-eyed when I hear parents raise their voice a few octaves, affect that strange syrupy tone, and say things like “Penelope no want to go bye-bye with mommy?” or “Mommy kiss Penelope’s yucky boo-boo?” I find it to be excessively patronizing, and I think kids deserve better. Why set them up to have to relearn proper grammar and sentence structure a few years down the road? At some point, speaking in choppy, simpleminded baby talk is no longer cute or appropriate. Interviewing for her first job by saying “Violet want to give grumpy Mr. CEO her résumé” probably won’t go over very well. I strongly feel there’s a happy medium somewhere in there, where we can speak to our kids in a way that reaches them without challenging their intelligence.
Adopting errors
It’s easy to fall into a pattern of unintentionally endorsing the words our children say incorrectly by using them ourselves. For example, a parent might say, “Look at the big ‘ephalant’ at the zoo!” I think it’s cute as can be when my kids accidentally mispronounce something; there’s serious entertainment value in it. Gray called bananas “debabas” for almost a year, and she coined the term “lasterday” in place of “yesterday,” which still makes an appearance from time to time. I’ve found both to be endlessly charming, and I haven’t always been quick to correct her. But I’ve had to make a concerted effort to use the proper version of those words when speaking to her, because it’s just too easy to say them incorrectly myself. I’ve done my best to let her figure out the correct pronunciation on her own. This allows me plenty of time to enjoy the overwhelming cuteness of it all without reinforcing the wrong thing.
Word dwarfism
I’ve heard many a parent employ condensed or simpler words when their child is present, even when carrying on a conversation with a fellow adult. Why not go ahead and break out those SAT words? Our kids learn multisyllabic words the same way they learn monosyllabic ones—through context and repetition. It might be a while before your child can use them in a sentence, but so what? They’ll pick things up at their own pace. And you’d be surprised which words manage to sneak into a child’s dialogue. When Gray was two, during a car ride to her day care, she informed my husband, “We’re going to have a fire drill again at school today, and I’m going to be traumatized.” Not sure where she picked that one up, but kids absorb everything!
GUESS WHO’S COMING TO DINNER
Who: We’re still talking about your kid.
What: It usually starts with a pureed vegetable of some sort. Regardless of what it is, it’s about to adorn the walls like some vicious serial-killer massacre, so expect to be wearing it and dress appropriately. In other words, keep your raincoat handy. Even better, invest in a biohazard suit.
When: Timing is everything. The appropriate age for transitioning children to solid foods differs for everyone, but I’m all for waiting as long as possible. Just because your baby has teeth doesn’t mean he’s ready for food. The American Academy of Pediatrics website essentially states that breastfeeding is a child’s ideal nutritional source through the first year of his life: “The American Academy of Pediatrics reaffirms its recommendation of exclusive breastfeeding for about 6 months, followed by continued breastfeeding as complementary foods are introduced, with continuation of breastfeeding for 1 year or longer as mutually desired by mother and infant.”* Believe it or not, I’m on the side of authority on this. (But just this once; I wouldn’t want to mar my reputation.)
Where: Anywhere that doesn’t contain white walls, dry-clean-only clothing, or strangers who are within spitting distance.
How: Get that food in any way you can, whether it’s by coaxing, playing airplane, pretending you’re eating it too, or using a slingshot. I’m just kidding. No, I’m not. Yes, I am. I think.
There’s nothing cuter than a baby’s expression when she tastes carrots for the first time. Her little nose scrunches up, she starts working the food around in her mouth, prepares to swallow, and . . . kapow! You’re hit right between the eyes with chewed-up orange mush. A professional archer couldn’t possibly have better aim. Unless you happen to be a fan of squished banana facials or chewed-up-Cheerio hairspray, prepare to need a shower 24/7. You’ve got a pretty messy future ahead of you!
Here are some questions you might be asking about your new assignment as super-duper food-pusher extraordinaire.
How will I know when it’s the right time to try solid foods?
When I first considered giving Gray a taste of nourishment beyond breast milk, a friend said something that made me hold off a little while longer. She mentioned that a lot of folks decide to start their kids on solid food because it’s captivating to watch (which you’ll find it is) or more convenient to their lifestyle (which you may also find to be true) and not necessarily because their child is truly ready. She told me the right time is often later than parents think it is.
Gray was about ten months old when she first tried solid food, and I wound up basing my decision on her age combined with some obvious cues. When she was getting ready to try something more than breast milk, I noticed she was showing signs of still being hungry after feedings, and she also began gravitating toward my dinner plate. I’m not referring to a minor curiosity; I mean she was stalking it like my pug stalks a morsel of steak. (Or cheese. Or anything edible, really.) Your baby will likely begin to show immense interest in what you’re eating, and breast milk may no longer seem to satisfy her. She might even try to grab food off your plate, mimic your chewing motions, or open her mouth like a baby bird.
Regardless of the signal, kids are pretty easy to read when it comes to food. Just don’t mistake the random curiosity of a two-month-old as a sign that you have a child who’s old enough to handle a three-course meal. Other important things to take into consideration are making sure your baby is able to steadily hold her head up as well as sit up by herself so she has less of a chance of choking. Because choking isn’t fun for anyone.
What foods should I start with?
A lot of folks are big on beginning with rice cereal, but I’ve never been a fan. Because I breastfed, I didn’t feel the need to give my girls anything beyond fruits and vegetables until they were ready to have food that wasn’t pureed into the consistency of a muddy puddle. They were already getting their nutrition via my milk, so I supplemented with whatever healthy produce I had on hand. If you aren’t breastfeeding, you may want to look into which foods will impart the most well-rounded nutritional value for your baby, whether store-bought or homemade.
Should I make my own food?
This sounds like something only the granola moms might do, but I beg to differ. I didn’t find it to be as intricate or time-consuming as I would have thought, and I didn’t need a degree from Le Cordon Bleu to figure out what to do. If you have a blender, I promise you can make it happen! Nobody’s looking for you to make a culinary extravaganza for your eleven-month-old. Even Gordon Ramsay has to draw the line somewhere.
I’m a foodie, so I was gung ho about immediately getting my girls acclimated to the kind of fare I was putting on the table for my husband and myself. It certainly made it easier than prepping an entirely different spread for the kiddos! My girls spent only a short time strictly eating purees. After that, I began introducing very small pieces of some of the items we were having for dinner that night. Our pediatrician told me most foods were okay, such as salmon, as long as it was cut to the size of our daughters’ pinky nails, and as long as we weren’t giving them foods that posed health risks, such as honey. Nonetheless, that isn’t to say I was offering bacon-wrapped scallops right off the bat. I’m not that radical. I opted to delay the introduction of certain foods that required a lot of chewing, or that might have posed allergy issues, such as shellfish. Just to be on the safe side.
While still in the puree stage, I made very simple versions of whatever vegetables we were having for dinner that night. I started with fresh produce such as carrots, kale, sweet potatoes, or peas. I first steamed or boiled them, sometimes using a combination of several, and then pureed them in the blender or food processor. I’m big on flavor, so I also doctored up the mixture by adding a dash of spices or herbs such as vanilla, cinnamon, dill, garlic, basil, or lemon zest. I believe exposing a child to natural seasoning early on develops a more complex palate and makes it easier to broaden his culinary horizons down the road. Sometimes I also added a bit of plain nonfat yogurt or a fruit, such as apple, to thin it all out. You can even mix in breast milk, which may help get your baby accustomed to the new taste profiles. Once I was done, I put the concoction into little resealable puree pouches with twist-off caps (they are wonderful space savers in your refrigerator), and voilà! Homemade baby food.
In case you’re curious, here was my reasoning behind making my own baby food rather than purchasing the store-bought stuff.
1. I knew exactly what went into it.
In other words, I didn’t have to scour the ingredient list to make sure there were no unrecognizable additives. Or even, for that matter, additives that I could easily recognize, such as that wicked bad boy: sugar (and all of his alien life forms that like to go incognito as something that sounds healthy). I found relief in knowing precisely what was being put into my child’s body. To clarify, I’m not saying jarred food is bad for your baby. The contents vary from brand to brand, and some brands may be as pure as Mother Teresa. Some even offer organic options. I can’t speak to the nutritional value of commercially made baby food, since I skipped it altogether. I am, however, saying the only way to truly know what your child is eating is to make it yourself.
2. Fresh, in-season produce equates to higher nutritional value.
We’ve all been told that fresh fruits and veggies are healthier than processed ones, so that’s not a new concept. Fresh produce is healthier than the jarred stuff too, for exactly the same reasons; the nutrients don’t get lost in the shuffle. That may start a civil war, but I’m a big believer in eating what’s fresh and in season, whenever possible. And so ends any chance I had of being sponsored by the major baby food companies.
3. It prepares your child for the true taste of solid food.
I personally feel my daughters transitioned to solid food more easily because they didn’t eat jarred food first. They got used to the true flavor of what they were eating, since it was made to order. I’ve tasted plenty of baby food in my time (don’t ask), and while I find it generally carries the flavor of the vegetables and fruits that went into making it, it doesn’t taste quite like the fresh stuff. Commercial baby food is cooked at very high temperatures because it has to be stored for a greater length of time. Any bacteria also has to be killed off. Consequently, some of that yummy flavor is killed off too!
4. It’s significantly less expensive.
Baby food adds up—quickly! You don’t need a whole lot of fresh food to produce the equivalent of one jar of baby food, so I found the cost difference to be tremendous. Not to mention, we were already buying fruits and vegetables at the grocery store for ourselves, so grabbing a little extra wasn’t a difficult task.
Even though I’ve presented my case for making one’s own baby food, my biggest suggestion is this: don’t do it because of peer pressure! If you feel like it isn’t conducive to your lifestyle because it’s too time-consuming, takes up too much space in your refrigerator or freezer, or just isn’t your cup of tea, go a different route! You are not a terrible mom if you don’t make your baby’s food from scratch.
Let me tell you a little story. When Gray was just shy of a year old, I brought her to her friend’s birthday party. She was the youngest attendee, so she was the only one who couldn’t partake of the pizza during lunchtime. Knowing this in advance, I’d brought a packet of food along for her in one of those resealable bags I spoke of. As I opened it up to feed her, one of the dads asked, “I’ve never seen baby food like that before. What do you have in there?”
I answered, “It’s a parsnip-and-apple mixture I made.”
His wife happened to walk up at that moment and frowned. She turned to me and said, “Oh, you’re one of those moms. Well, I couldn’t do that because I had to work. I didn’t have time to fool around with food.”
I was flabbergasted (and a bit insulted, to be perfectly honest), so I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t bother explaining to her that in no way did I believe making my own food made me a better mom than her . . . But I should have. Perhaps it would have inspired her to let herself off the hook.
I think we parents tend to get most defensive about the things we feel guiltiest about, and there’s absolutely no need to feel like a delinquent parent over choosing not to make your own baby food! If you opt to make your own purees, then great. If you choose to buy commercially made food, then that’s fine too. I’m all for whatever keeps your kid well fed and healthy. Which, I imagine, is your goal as well. Do your own thing, and don’t let anyone else put you down for it.
What changes should I expect when I introduce solid food?
I’ll tell you what I found the biggest change to be: the diaper evolution. More complex foods mean more complex poop. This isn’t a subject I really want to elaborate on, but let’s just say the BC (Before Cuisine) poop is downright dainty compared to the AC (After Cuisine) poop. Your baby’s Pampers contents are about to hit critical mass.
Choking can be a hazard even with breast milk or formula, but the stakes go up with solid food.
Properly chewing and swallowing (or gumming and swallowing) are things your child will have to get used to, which is why mushy foods are introduced first. While I was never paranoid about the choking issue, my husband and I did take a first-aid class that included infant CPR. I highly recommend it!
Sometimes there’s no rhyme or reason when your kid won’t eat something.
You may wind up with a picky kid or one who eats anything. Your baby may also prefer certain textures and flavors, while others turn him off. For instance, Gray despised bananas as a baby but obsessed over them by the time she turned eighteen months. Just because your ten-month-old isn’t into broccoli doesn’t mean he won’t develop a taste for it later, so there’s no need to force-feed him those brussels sprouts!
NAPTIME AIN’T FOR SISSIES
Who: You guessed it . . . your kid.
What: The hell that is naptime training.
When: Preferably before your kid moves in with his first girlfriend.
Where: Initially, anyplace you can get him to pass out, whether it’s a swing, a Pack ’n Play, the car, a bassinet, a crib, a cosleeper, or a makeshift couch cot. In a pinch, even the bathroom rug will do.
How: With a lot of patience and creativity on your part.
First off, let me say I realize the subject of sleep training tends to be a controversial one. To cry it out or not to cry it out? That seems to be the eternal question and the generator of mass mommy hysteria on the Internet and social media. I’ve honestly been torn about my stance on this issue for quite some time now. In theory, I thought I would be fine letting my children cry until they fell asleep. In reality, the cry-it-out method went over like a lead balloon; it just didn’t work for my husband and me. Moreover, it wasn’t effective for our daughters, especially Gray. We tried to transition Gray into her own crib countless times during her infancy, and it failed miserably. Every time. It wasn’t for lack of patience, diligence, effort, or creative tactics on our part; our kid just hated her crib. Which may be the biggest understatement I’ve ever made. She felt abandoned, and she viewed that crib as a jail. A pretty-in-pink, beautifully carved, cushy-mattressed jail. During the screaming and bawling intermissions (not that there were many to speak of), I’m fairly positive she was plotting ways to fashion a shiv out of the wooden bars and break out of the joint.
Unless you count being home to stuffed animals, extra blankets, and clothes waiting to be hung, the crib wound up being a nonfunctioning showpiece in the nursery until Gray’s sister came along. Marlowe didn’t mind being in there at all. I didn’t even have to consider the cry-it-out method with her, since she never made a fuss to begin with. To put a slight spin on the Forrest Gump quote, “Kids are like a box of chocolates; you never know what you’re going to get.” Consequently, your sleep training methods may require some adjustment.
Since sleep training tactics are such a personal choice, I’m going to stick with what I’d like to think are some loose observations and universal recommendations for you.
Choosing the technique that works for you
The fact is, there are countless methods for sleep training, and many of us would disagree on which one we deem most appropriate and acceptable. The good news is the only people who really have any right to weigh in on it, as it pertains to your children, are you and your spouse. (Assuming, of course, that you’ve chosen a safe method.) As with any other tough parenting decision, it would be outstanding if we could all respect one another and try to be nonjudgmental. However, I acknowledge that’s like expecting Sarah Palin to ace a social studies class. There is no best way to teach your child to sleep independently; there’s only the way that feels most comfortable to you. All you can do is work toward finding the arrangement that sets the appropriate boundaries you want for your child, keeps your head and your heart happy, and—wait for it—gets your kid to sleep!
Making sleep training work for you
The sleep training method that works for your child may be very different from the one that works for you, so flexibility is key. I quickly learned that a child’s personality tends to influence which approach is successful despite any preconceived ideas a parent may bring to the table. For instance, I discovered there were options that were better suited to our lifestyle and Gray’s disposition than the cry-it-out method. I wholeheartedly want my children to respect the parental boundaries I set, but I have to draw the line when those boundaries start bordering on becoming traumatic for them. Sometimes the line of separation is muddy, so you just have to go with your gut. Sleep training your child may never rest solidly within your comfort zone, no matter how hard you try. As a dear friend whose advice I implicitly trust once said to me, “It’s not all or nothing, it’s not a linear process, and it’s not boot camp.” Be loving and gentle to your baby and yourself.
Why sleep training is important
First and foremost, babies need sleep. Their little bodies are expending so much energy on both mental and physical growth that it’s crucial they balance it with solid rest. Truth be told, you need it too. Sometimes you’ll be overwhelmed, completely behind on your work, or in desperate need of more alone time with your husband. Baby’s naptime gives you some breathing room and allows you to reenergize as well.
Crying: when is it too much?
Despite the fact that I wasn’t comfortable employing the cry-it-out method with my children, I’m not out to prevent them from ever crying. I respect that it’s a natural and important way for them to express themselves. My girls need to experience tolerable frustration (my very PC way of saying my girls will get royally pissed off every now and then), because it’s a fundamental part of life and growing up. Nonetheless, I found it took some time to learn their limitations as well as my own; everyone has different parameters. You may feel ten minutes is too long to allow your child to cry, for instance, while another mother may feel perfectly comfortable waiting longer. You may recognize that your child escalates to a certain type of crying when she hits her emotional limit, indicating you need to immediately shut the sleep-training venture down for the day. Alternately, you may find certain noises or movements signify your baby will be winding down sooner rather than later, so you’re willing to stick it out. It isn’t an exact science. You’ll figure out the proper approach for you and your baby, and you’ll help each other set your own guidelines.
Develop a routine.
No matter how you teach your child to sleep independently, I find establishing a naptime and nighttime routine of some sort is imperative. It can be as simple as singing a lullaby and kissing your baby good night or as elaborate as you wish. Many sleep routines include activities such as bathing, diaper changing, swaddling, turning on white noise, reading a story, or massaging baby’s feet with lotion. The idea is to provide a calming ritual that baby associates with preparing for bed. Just make sure you set a routine that you’re able to follow through with daily, and choose things that contribute to a soothing atmosphere that encourages sleep. If you travel often, you may find it necessary to create a program that isn’t location-based. We opted for activities that could be repeated regardless of where we were, so the pattern wouldn’t be interrupted if we were visiting grandparents or staying in a hotel. You’ll customize a system that works for you.
Think outside the bassinet.
You can try out every sleep training method known to man and discover none of them are effective or practical for you. I encourage you to let those creative juices flow. Sometimes parenting is about coming up with innovative ways to make your kid think it’s his idea to do what you’ve been trying to get him to do from day one. For the record, sometimes that works with husbands too.
THE MORAL OF MY STORY
The writing is on the wall, and so is the applesauce I gave my kid for lunch. Thank God I have five dogs who can clean up faster than a Hoover vacuum! Sadly, they weren’t much help when it came to sleep-training my girls, and it wasn’t terribly believable to blame our basset hound when my daughter loudly announced, “Mommy, I want booby!” in the middle of Easter mass. I wish you luck.
*“Breastfeeding and the Use of Human Milk,” Pediatrics: Official Journal of the American Academy of Pediatrics, published online February 27, 2012, accessed April 28, 2015, http://pediatrics.aappublications.org/content/129/3/e827.full.