Advice Please Mamas!

Gah - Little Man STILL has a fever. It's really stressing me out. I took him to the doctor today again. Our doctor was away - but because we were in a pinch, D's doctor was able to squeeze us in. He is extremely sweet and has loads of time for you - very old school. His baby handling was rather old school as well. He spoke very gently and sweetly to LM, but at the same time had me physically restrain him with his arms above his head while he looked in his ears and so on. LM was NOT impressed. I probably wouldn't have thought much of it except that the approach of the jeans-wearing ER doc was so different - all about distraction and playing while he took a look. Anyway, LM survived unscathed and the doctor reassured me that it was a viral thing, recommended against antibiotics (which is great, I don't want them if they're not needed) and allayed my fears about worse things.

Still, I can't help but worry. The child is so utterly lethargic. He slept until 8 a.m. (he's usually up at 6). I woke him because I was starting to worry. Then he catnapped in my arms and in the car until we headed to the doctor. From 11 to 1 he snoozed restlessly while pressed against me on the bed, nursing and whining. Then the phone rang and he woke up. I took him to the park to get some fresh air and offered him some solids, which he declined. At 2 he fell asleep again. You have to understand, LM is a child who resists sleep with every bone in his body and I'm usually lucky to get two and a half hours out him between 6 a.m. and bedtime. I'm so worried about it!

So to other mothers (or fathers or child-experienced people), does this sound normal? Does it sound typical of roseola (aka sixth disease), which is what I'm hoping this is?

Sunday Night Blues

Blah.

One of my best friend's booked a trip here without telling me beforehand and I'm not even going to be in town (or wasn't planning to be.) I thought it was a trip at least in part to see me, but I guess it was more to hang out with her other friend who lives here. Shitty. She was a bridesmaid, so I consider her a great pal, and I'm more than a little pissed off about it.

Blah.

I missed an invite to go out for dinner tonight because LM got a fever that spiked to 103... and I decided I better stay home and ensure he's okay especially since he had one scarily dry diaper. He seems to be getting all these horrid little fevers lately and I'm not sure what it's all about.

Blah.

I am having no luck finding someone to nanny-share with. One measly reply to my Craig's List posting. My new strategy will be advertising on bulletin boards in my new 'hood, but I am starting to panic a wee bit.

Blah.

I haven't exercised in week.

Blah.

The weekend is over and I didn't even unpack one stupid box or paint one single wall.

Too Tired of Unpacking for a Real Post

Unpacking takes so much longer when there's a little wriggler around - especially one who has just figured out how to crawl on all fours (more or less anyway) and who tends to crawl over and wrap his little body around your legs and look up at you pleadingly.

Homeless

We no longer own the place we live in! We still have possession for a couple more days, but the title is now in someone else's name. We haven't closed our new place yet, but that should happen tomorrow. If I were working at my firm right now, they probably would have handled all the transfers for me at cost, but since I don't know the real estate associates or paralegals, it didn't feel right popping in and saying "Hey, I know y'all haven't seen me in months, but anyone got some free legal services for me?"

So we hired a solo practitioner - he's great and very detail-oriented, but he does seem to operate in a bit of panic mode at times. A few days ago he called at about 4:30 to tell us our insurance agent hadn't been able to secure insurance for our new place (without which the mortgage company will not give us any money). By the time we got the message at 5:30 the insurance agent and the lawyer had gone home so D and I had a white-knuckle evening before finally sorting out the next morning that in fact all our insurance was in place and the paperwork just hadn't been sent to the lawyer.

That scare was topped by today - I was awoken from a very pleasant nap to hear his voice on the machine: "NOT a good time to not answer your phone. We have a problem with your mortgage." I called him back to find out that we just had to sign a few things because we changed our amortisation period. (We will still pay it off as if we are amortised for a shorter period, but this way if there is another mat leave, or lay-off or something in the future, we can reduce our payments for awhile.)

Then he says "Oh, and the mortgage company hasn't sent the money in from your sale yet, and if it's not here by now, it's not coming, so we won't be closing tomorrow." My heart barely had time to jump into my throat before he says "Oh, er, wait, actually someone just dropped a FedEx off on my desk and the money's here." Um, yay?

To get the revised documents signed in a time frame that wouldn't give my lawyer a heart attack, I had to wake up LM from a nap, which as the mother of any crappy sleeper will know, is an extremely painful thing to do. It was made doubly painful by the fact that he refused to nap yesterday and was awake ALL day with the exception of a 40-minute period around 3:30pm. And he was out so cold when I woke him - not even flinching as I pulled off the covers or turned on the light.

So anyway, let's hope there are no more panics before tomorrow; if not we will be home-owners and house-owners! We will have a backyard, and a screen door, and a family room, and stucco, and front steps and a shed. Hooray!*

*This hooray does not constitute an official self-congratulations. The hooray described in this document is subject to restrictions and congratulations must be offered only in compliance with these restrictions.

The World is A Little Sweeter

LM was grumpy all day, whining and wanting to be held and generally miserable. Finally around 5:30 I took his temperature and found he had a fever of over 101 under his arm - and that was with my crappy thermometer that always seems to register lower than my basal one. I felt like such a moron - here I was dragging him out and around, pushing him in the swing at the park and trying to interest him in random passing dogs. Poor kid was probably thinking "Just take me home woman! Can't you feel I'm BURNING UP?" I am just not much of a worrier when it comes to illness so it never occurred to me that it might be something more than just teething. Of course by then the doctor's office was closed and I realised he'd probably had the fever for quite a while given how crappy he was acting all day. I called the Nurse Hotline in tears and spoke to a very sweet RN.

"Is it his first time being sick?" she asked.

"His first fever," I said.

"Well, he'll have plenty more," she said with a smile in her voice.

That was my second crying jag of the day. The first was when I was driving in the car and White Coat, Black Art was on. They were interviewing a doctor who specialises in counselling dying children. One of the things he does is help them come up with assignments for their families to remember them, because often these children are afraid they'll be forgotten. So it reassures the child to task the family with some sort of commemorative ritual, like asking them to eat the child's favourite meal every year on his or her birthday. I liked that idea.

The doctor being interviewed also said that dying children never ask "why me?" at least not in their discussions with him. Instead they worry about their parents: "Will mummy be okay?" When I heard that that, I started sobbing. Tears were rolling down my face. I had to pause and regain my breath after stopping the car.

I feel like motherhood has given me so much more empathy than I used to have. You'd think I'd have already had that sort of empathy towards the sick - having had one parent die slowly from cancer, and having another battle it off twice. I've seen a lot of death. But I don't think that story would have made me cry 10 months ago. Somehow since I've had a child the whole human race just seems a little more vulnerable and likable, and well... human.

With that, I'm off to cuddle my sweet, clammy boy.

Childcare and Running Triumphs

Thanks for all the daycare advice and wisdom. So to elaborate a bit more, a nanny share is basically hiring a nanny to look after your child and also the child of another family. Some people also talk about nanny sharing as in you'd have the nanny 1/2 the time, and the other family 1/2 the time, thereby providing full-time employment, but the way we want to do it is to actually have the nanny take care of both children. Hence the need to find another family with a child of similar-ish age, and preferably living nearby. Most of my mommy friends aren't that close by or aren't planning full-time work.

I haven't totally ruled out putting him in an unlicensed daycare situation (licensed day care being far too difficult to get into), but I feel like a nanny will provide us with more flexibility. Also, he's pretty used to being attended to by one person so I'm not sure how a daycare would deal with his peccadilloes - I can't imagine him napping easily for example. Perhaps I am underestimating him and he'd adjust just fine. But regardless, the cost is surprisingly comparable and it is far more convenient, so I'm leaning towards nanny-sharing. I'll probably go through an agency or referral service to hire the nanny, or else rely on word of mouth. The advantage to the agency scenario is they guarantee you someone who will remain with you at least a year and I know my friend who has hired via Craig's List seems to have a rapid rate of turnover - but I'm glad to hear that can be successful, and I won't rule it out. Unfortunately (but logically) most people looking for work want to be hired fairly immediately, so scarily this part of the arrangement will have to be a bit more last-minute.

In other news, I ran my first half-marathon this weekend. I didn't have an amazing time, but I was able to run the entire 22.1 kilometres (doing 10s and 1s, as is my practice) without any unscheduled breaks, despite some rather nasty hills near the end. It was a tough course, but it was a lot of fun. An hour and a half into I was still feeling great, loving the scenery and the camaraderie of the other racers. A wave of nausea and fatigue hit me near the end, but a carbo gel pack (disgusting tasting) got me through and I hit the finish line with D and LM cheering me on. LM wasn't literally cheering of course, but he did like the medal I got and promptly grabbed it from me to put in his mouth.

In conclusion, I leave you with a photo. I was trying to capture his two new teeth; he wouldn't cooperate by opening his mouth at the appropriate angle, so I didn't get them, but I did get the lashes. Are they not insane?

Day Care

Grrr - for some weird reason Blogger ate one of my posts. Or at least failed to publish it. Now I'm looking like the derelict, not-even-weekly blogger!

I'm starting to freak a little about childcare for LM. There don't really seem to be any daycares in my new area (although admittedly, I haven't looked very hard), and there are some downtown but they are crazy hard to get into (read: you need to put your bébé on that waitlist before the pregnancy pee stick dries). I don't see any real advantage in having a kid in daycare that's not where I live or work, so nanny sharing seems like a good option. Now I just need to find a family in my area who wants to share.

I guess I should just put an ad on Craig's List or something but that just seems like a sketch-o-rama way to find childcare. I mean the people I've advertised to before can't even be bothered to show up and pay for the $20 bookshelves they swore they wanted over the phone, and I'm going to ask them to help me figure out daycare? Blah.

Mommy Wars

I think most parents are convinced that their own kids are utter geniuses. I know I am. It amazes me that LM can deftly pick up his rice puffs and manipulate them into his mouth, that he looks around for the cat when I say her name, or when I sign "cat" to him, that he waves to us when we leave and will patiently flip through pages of a board book for 15 minutes, pausing to look at all the pictures. And yes, my friends and I occasionally compare - some of them are crawling, some of them can pull themselves up on things, some of them are starting to sign.

I think it's natural to think your kid is a genius, though it's probably best to try and confine your assuredness on this front to people most inclined to agree, grandma, dad, uncle, and maybe the people still reading your blog even though it contains mostly mundane posts about your baby. Probably wise not wax on about it the woman at play centre whose kid is a month older and isn't doing what yours is. And I think it's okay to compare as long as you're not trying to compete - after all it's natural; e-mails often go around in my group of mother friends: "Any crawlers?" "Any teeth?" "How are you handling solids?" It's all part of the learning process and helps you know what might be coming next.

But I have one friend who is constantly telling me how wonderful and intelligent her child is, without a hint of irony, or any sense that she might be, well, a tad biased. Every wise and wonderful thing he has done must be detailed. And the milestones this wunderchild hit late? It wasn't because she couldn't do it; it was because she "didn't want to." Or she "thought it was dumb." Seriously.

And the worst part is, mum will then sometimes criticise other children; sure that other little boy might have crawled earlier, but he really sucked at something else that is obviously far more indicative of intelligence and he was nowhere near as "tuned in" as her little girl. The reality is, you see your own child a lot more, so of course they seem more tuned in. It was a shock to me when my sister-in-law saw LM laughing at her and said she hadn't seen him be that "interactive" before. To me he always seems that interactive.

I love watching LM start doing new things. I do tend to focus on the things he has done early and take them as evidence of his brilliance. But in the end, it really doesn't matter. I was an early milestone kid; D hit them late, as did my brother. And guess what, as adults we're all intelligent, successful and happy. And just as we were then, we're all good at different things. But the speed at which we toilet-trained, or cut teeth, or walked has not had any discernible impact on our current lives.

Uh-Oh

Things I have pulled out of Little Man's mouth today:

• cardboard paint chip, in multiple pieces
• live power cord
• sock (D's)
  
• shoe (mine)
  
• laptop key that he pulled off the keyboard and held in his mouth for several minutes before I noticed
• National Geographic, Harper's and Domino
  
• Giant tuft of cat hair from under the sofa
• Cat's tail

And he's not even mobile yet! Yesterday he was digging dirt out of the pots and eating cat food. I am going to be in for it.

Miscellanii

A series of random posts that have occurred to me recently:

1. For the past two weeks I've been staying with friends and family. I'm back home now, and while it feels wonderful, there is one part I really miss: Showers alone. For two whole weeks there was always another pair of hands to entertain Little Man so I could linger under the hot water. But as of yesterday it's just him and me again. Showers are far less relaxing when you have to constantly be poking your head out from behind the curtain yelping "Peekaboo!" in order to keep him from melting down. I think his separation anxiety has eased a bit in the last couple of weeks but he's still not prepared to be in a different room from me if he's awake. (Or asleep - but that's another post.)

2. My cat - After the baby was born the former queen of the roost was suddenly person a(cattus?) non grata. But pet lovers everywhere will be relieved to know I have stopped hating her so much. I actually kind of like her again, which is good, because she was accustomed to a lot of love before. LM has enough love for the both of us - he adores her. But although I'm starting to enjoy having a pet again, I still really hate her when she stands outside his room while he's asleep and meowing at the top of her lungs.

3. Food - I make most of LM's food (except when we're travelling, then we go to jars) and I'm sort of particular about it. How do I deal with all the annoying people who constantly want to give him cookies? I'd really just prefer to keep him off sugar for at least a year, maybe more. I'm not totally obnoxious about it - when we visited my aunt she was desperate to give him a popsicle (!!!) since she said that all her kids loved them when they were fussy. I figured since he probably wouldn't see her for another two years and popsicles were not going to be part of a daily regimen, that it was no big deal. He didn't like it anyway. But we have friends in town who are constantly offering arrowroots, Mum-mums et cetera. I just figure if there's no nutritional value in it, I'd rather not give it to him. But it's starting to get hard to refuse without being insulting. I realise a Mum-mum or five is not the end of the world, but we all pick our battles as parents and for whatever reason, food is mine. I thought about saying he doesn't like them, but it's not all that convincing when he's reaching for it.

Woops - nap over. Gotta run.

How to Dissaude Random Strangers from Procreating

How to dissuade random strangers from procreating:

1. Book five-hour train trip with infant

2. Feed infant loads of fruit before trip

3. 40 minutes into train ride discover baby has pooped and change facilities are lacking.

4. Change baby on floor between seats, which are mercifully empty

5. 80 minutes into train ride change poopy diaper number two - no pun intended. Accidentally get poop all over your hands. Subtly try to wipe it off before other passengers see you.

6. Three hours into train ride change poopy diaper number three. Realise poop is all over babies clothes. While trying to dispose of diaper in barf bag, accidentally smear poop all over bag and hands. Leave half-naked baby on train floor as you try to rifle through your baggage for new clothes since for the first time in three weeks you have neglected to pack extra outfit.

7. Because of absence of garbage bags, spend next two hours sitting next to barf bags full of extremely stinky diapers. Avoid glances from the few train passengers who thankfully missed the naked baby show and are now quizzically trying to locate the source of foul smell.

8. In struggle to remove three suitcases, playpen, stroller, baby and car seat from train, accidentally forget poopy diaper bag on train.

Believe me, no one who sees this go down is going to be in any rush to have children.

A Full-Time Job

Been thinking more about my training dilemma and what to do with Little Man. You know what I hate? I hate that I always have to be the one to figure out what we do with him. I can go on the training, but I have to arrange childcare, or ask D if he'll take the time off.

When we got pregnant, although we were thrilled, it was unexpected timing and my life plan had to shift around quite a bit. No one asked me whether I wanted to sacrifice my clerkship - it was assumed that if someone stayed home for the year of EI, that it would be me. No one asked me if I wanted to put on 40 pounds, or feel sick for four months, or deal with a borderline colicky baby for 12 hours a day while D worked hellish hours in the first four months. But I did. And yes he did agree to be home early two nights a week, but that was still a lot of long lonely nights at home in our tiny apartment with my laptop after LM fell asleep. So why should I feel bad asking D to take the time off now?

My career is just as important as his is. All year D has said that when I go back to work, he is going to go down to four days a week, at least temporarily. But that changed when I reminded him that next year, someone would have to be home at 6 each night to get LM from daycare or nanny, and it won't always be me. His first instinct was to suggest an au pair, so that we can have the flexibility to work late. "D," I said, "we didn't have a child so that he can spend 12 hours a day in the care of someone else - I think we need to commit to the idea that at least one of us will be home by 6 almost every night." Once I said it, he agreed, but it bugs me that I even had to say it. And the end result is that since he can't work the insane hours during the week, he feels he has no right to ask for the reduced workweek he had planned to negotiate.

He called me today to let me know he'd phoned around about some nanny services for August; it was meant to be a thoughtful gesture, but I must admit it grated on me. I hate that while I'm doing the training, I'm still going to be responsible for managing LM the whole week on my own - making sure the nanny isn't crazy, rushing back after the training and so on.

Don't get me wrong, D is an amazing and involved father. He changes almost all the diapers on the weekend. When LM cries at night, D leaps up to get him. He plays with him, gives him baths, feeds him, gets up with him in the morning on weekends to let me sleep, and does at least 50% of the childcare when he's around. And as for work, he makes nearly three times what I will in my articling year (articling students in my city do not make much) and he manages our finances, so he puts a lot of pressure on himself at work as well.

But I think there are going to be real challenges as I get back into the work force. It's going to be really hard for both of us to shift mentality - I won't be the default daycare anymore. And I admit that sometimes I feel like Dads only have to be Dads when they're not doing the 9 to 5 (or 7 to 7 as the case may be.) Motherhood is a 24-hour a day profession.

Sold!

Our place sold! Yahoo. And for just $500 less than the initial offer, so all in all it worked out wonderfully. Thanks for your positive thoughts (and your lovely compliments on LM.) To answer your question Kaitlyn, I don't think he looks that much like either of us, at least not in the way some babies do where you look at them and see one parent. However, if you look at baby photos of D, and also of my brother, there are a lot of similarities with both of them. (And I think he has my eyes! But luckily for him, someone else's long lashes.)

Can't believe how quickly work is creeping up on me. I got an e-mail from my boss a couple of days ago asking if I wanted to do some training in the Big Smoke. Training opportunities are fairly few and far between in my city, at least at our office, plus I think it would be really cool to meet some of the students one of the bigger offices and participate in their training. Plus it will be kinda fun to spend some time in Canada's law capital. Obviously I've been to the city before (am in fact headed there next week) but not in any sort of lawyerly function. I said yes immediately.

Problem is, it's in August, before my mat leave is officially over. So it begs the question - what to do with LM? It's hard to imagine what he'll be like three months from now. Right now he is going through this big separation anxiety phase, and when I leave him to go to the gym, yoga, shopping, whatever, he'll often cry for an extended period - it's very trying on his caregivers, and him. I'm not sure if he'll be as dependent on me once he's more mobile and so on, but what if he is? Also, I don't want to wean him yet, so leaving him for four days could be both physically and emotionally traumatic for us both. I'd be engorged and I'd have to pump to maintain my supply, and I think the sudden weaning, even if it's temporary, could be fairly traumatic for LM.

So I have three options, more or less in order of preference:

1. Take LM with me, convince D to take a week of holidays and all go together;
Pros: LM's transition to me as a working woman is less traumatic; he spends time with Dad and we get to see some of D's family.
Cons: We'd prefer to spend D's vacation time working on the house; ticket cost.

2. Take LM and hire a nanny service to take care of him while I am there.
Pros: LM doesn't have to undergo sudden weaning; I don't suddenly disappear from his life for a week when previously he's never been away from me for more than a few hours;
Cons: Cost; LM is left alone with a stranger in a strange place.

3. Leave LM at home and hope D can take a vacation week, or arrange some other child care.
Pros: I can just relax on training and don't have to juggle LM's morning and evening rituals; can take advantage of all the dinners and so on.
Cons: I can only base it on how he is now, but I think this could be fairly traumatic for LM; he'd survive, but it would be kinda painful for him and by extension, for me; I'd have to be diligent about pumping and maintaining supply; we risk damaging our breastfeeding relationship.

Decisions, decisions. I'm definitely leaning toward #1 or 2, but am keeping #3 in mind just in case LM does become radically more independent.

Throw Me a Bone!

Blah - waiting for the final word on the outstanding offer. Ugh! Keep your fingers crossed.

In other news, I was at a café with another mum and baby today. The waitress kept cooing over my friend's baby.

"She's so precious!"

"She's so lovely!"

"Can I carry her into the kitchen and show her off?"

Her only acknowledgment of LM was, as we were leaving, "He's a... good little baby, isn't he?"

Now obviously my friend's baby is a complete sweetheart, but for god's sake, throw my kid a bone! Clearly the woman was insane, and also, blind. Luckily I don't need any outsider's confirmation that he is the most adorable seven-month old on the planet, because well, the proof is right there on his face!

Lazing in the sand.

Not digging the baby sunglasses.

All the proof I need!

Cold Season

I have the flu, or a bad cold, or something. A really sore throat, nausea, fatigue, no voice. LM has it too, or at least has a terribly cough... again. And so I called D home from work to take him and I rested all day. Which really means I got a little sleep, watched some bad TV and made some baby food in peace while they were out. (Aside - I have decided that shelling fresh peas to puree them is above and beyond the call of motherly duty - so not worth the effort. And he didn't even like them that much. Bah.) Pea frustration aside, it was heavenly - why do I have to be sick to enjoy that?

Now I'd really like to just chill in bed reading, but I can't because LM is asleep in there. And I'd really, really love to sleep in tomorrow. But I can't, for like, the next 7 years. And I know I'm going to be up in an hour or MAYBE two, with a crying baby, desperately hoping to get him back to sleep before he wakes up so much that he just won't.

He is lucky he is so darn cute.

No Sissies Get Your Love

I've noticed that a lot of the mothers I meet have this tendency to brush it off when their babies cry from pain. For example, if a baby falls on his face and starts to cry, his mother will just say "You're fine, it was nothing" and distract him instead of giving him a kiss or a hug. I've seen it happen many times, and I must say, I think it's really weird. When their babies cry from hunger, fatigue or other reasons, they are clearly affected and respond immediately, so I find their reaction in those situations really interesting.

I understand the desire not to make a big deal out of injuries. A couple of times I've failed to catch LM before he topples from his still wobbly sitting position (we have hardwood floors, so I have to do a lot of catching). When that happens, I try to wait and gauge his reaction before assuming he's hurt. About half the time he recovers just fine. But the other half of the time he does cry and I assume he is genuinely sore or at the very least, unpleasantly surprised. So I pick him up and give him a hug until he stops crying or calms down a bit.

If the child is upset and in pain, what's the harm in offering some comfort and validating the feelings. If I stubbed my toe and screamed "Damn, f*ck, damn" I'd would be pretty pissed if D said "You're fine, you're fine, it was nothing." I suppose the fear is that the child will become a crybaby and will cry for a reaction. I'm not sure if that fear is unfounded or not. I have a very distinct memory from around age 5, of falling and skinning my knee. I got up and examined the wound. Then I noticed my mother across the grass and started crying. It was almost as if it didn't hurt until I saw her.

Now maybe I was crying for reaction or maybe it was delayed pain. I'm sure if she hadn't been there, I'd have recovered on my own. But even if that is so, who cares? It hasn't made my pain threshold remarkably low, or made me incapable of recovering on my own from injuries I got as adult. Hell, I went to my junior prom right after tearing several ligaments in my wrist. I pushed a baby out without drugs. I wrote my corps exam with an all-out migraine (didn't get a very good mark, mind you). Besides, as a child, is there anything more delicious than melting into your parent's arms when you've hurt yourself?

If Mothers Ruled the World

In the past couple of weeks LM has become such a happy baby. Instead of the default state being sort of fussy and cranky with a few happy stretches here and there, he's now such a smiley, happy guy most of the time and only gets truly upset when he's tired or frustrated.

I get these moments, watching him look at a picture, or smile lovingly at me from across the room and my whole heart just swells at the pure innocence. I can't help but think, I hope the world isn't too hard on you. I wish I could protect him from all the bad things, the skinned knees, the broken hearts, the temptation of driving after some drunken night, the gun-wielding strangers, the wars in far off places. I guess it's a good thing I can't shelter him from everything, because if I could, I probably would. But we all need some tough times to make us better and more interesting people. I still wish I could shelter him from some things though.

Same Topic

I was at the doctor's today and she seemed to think that waking every two hours was completely normal. I guess that's reassuring. Apparently her children were up and feeding every two hours until 18 months. On the one hand, it's nice to know he's normal. On the other hand, wow. Another year of this sounds really, really tiring, especially when I head back to work in a few months. It was a good reminder that he has perfectly valid reasons for wanting to nurse other than food; I just hope he exercises that desire a little less frequently.

Anyway, I'm probably totally jinxing myself, but I do think my little plan may be working a little. We went out last night to a rock concert, and LM slept from 8 until we went got home around midnight. My mother was just thrilled at what an "angel" he'd been. And after that I got another four and a half hour stretch - that hasn't happened in months! Wouldn't you know it, I was awake for the last hour of it, wondering how long he'd go... And I still got a little cuddle in the bed for a couple of hours in the morning too.

I promise to TRY not to make my next post about sleep. Really.

Judgy McJudgermom

I decided I need to cut back on night feedings - no more than every five hours, at least until he starts sleeping some longer stretches. It is, I postulate, the only way I am ever going to get some sleep. My baby loves to nurse, and does not seem to think he can get to sleep any other way. The breaking point was when we had several nights in a row where he was up every single hour. I can no longer function like that.

So I have decided to stop trying to stop worrying about whether I am the perfect parent, or what the books say I should do. I know I am a good and extremely loving mother. I also know that what I'm doing is motivated in self-interest - LM is happy and thriving having a little nosh every hour and waking me to do it. But he is six months and nearing 20 lbs and I don't think it's unreasonable for me to put my own need for a few straight hours of sleep before his hourly need for comfort.

So the past few nights have involved a lot of crying. Some his, some mine. He is still in our room, and we do what we can to comfort him, whether it's picking him up, patting him, or simply being there. It doesn't always work, but it makes me feel better about it. I'm not following any particular method, I'm just doing what feels right.

My goals are not particularly lofty - I'd just like him to get some consistent three-hour stretches. Hopefully once he gets used to sleeping longer stretches we can go back to feeding on demand as we face the challenges of teething, colds and so on. I have to admit I've really grown to love having him in the bed, despite the fact that I sort of pretend that it's an inconvenience. But I don't see how he will ever stop eating so much while he's in there and so close to the "fridge" as D lovingly calls it, so for now, he is in his crib.

It's funny, I'm very confident in my parenting skills and I have a lot of faith in my instincts. I can't picture anyone else doing a better job with my little man. But I'm so self-conscious about parenting too. I want to be a certain type of parent - the kind they feature in La Leche League magazine or in the Teresa Pitman articles in the magazines at my doctor's office. I want to be, as Dooce would say, the valedictorian of parenting. I hated to admit in my last post that I let my kid cry for 10 minutes even though I think (I KNOW) in the circumstances it was completely understandable and did absolutely zero lasting harm.

It's so weird, I don't think I've ever been like this about anything else... I'm a leftist, but I don't agree with all leftist ideology; I'm a feminist, but I sympathise with both liberal and radical schools; I've never been in the "cool" group at school, but sometimes I was friends with them. I have no idea why I'm so hung-up on fitting into some book's idea of the perfect parent when I myself don't even think that the same parenting style is going to work for every parent or every baby. I guess it's because there's so much guilt involved in parenting, and so much judgment and I've always hated being judged. And maybe it's because I can be judgmental about parenting too, even though I'm usually not a particularly judgy person.

Anyhow, somehow this post about LM's sleep turned into a post about me. But I'm sure you're fine with that as y'all know you are going to be getting more sleep posts in the future! Betcha can't wait!

LM is so hard to get to sleep these days. For a while he did well falling asleep for naps with a little patented technique I like to call Baby Bum CPR. But lately that is not working and I came in the other night after being at a community meeting to find a very harried D bouncing him on the ball... apparently he'd been doing it for over an hour. Ugh.

I must admit that despite my earlier posturing, I tried another round of letting him cry in the crib. I was desperate. I feel like I spend half my day convincing him to go down. However I just don't think it works with his personality as he becomes so worked up. So I have made an agreement with him not to do it again. I will let him fuss for a few minutes to see if he goes back down, but no more crying.

He was doing his refusing to sleep again today despite copious eye-rubbing and extreme crankiness. He even refused the breast, which is very unlike him. There is a reason the kid went from below average at birth rather enormous. So I whipped out my wrap and strapped him to my chest. He fussed getting in but then peacefully blew raspberries into my neck and all of sudden just closed his eyes and slept. Feels pretty awesome that all he really needs to soothe him is a big old snuggle with me. Sometimes being a mother makes me feel like I have superpowers.

In other news I have been volunteering for a community organisation that is going through a hiring process for a part-time paid position funded through a municipal grant. The spouse of a board member applied for the position. Okay. Fair enough. But it gets worse. That person also got an interview although only 4 of 80 applicants did, despite a much less qualified resume. And the applicant's spouse was involved in the hiring process - interviewing the other candidates! So when I discovered all these things I had a mini-freakout and started spouting about conflict of interest. Then the people around the table started asking "where do the candidates live? How old are they?" Um, hello people - you can't decide based on that! Human rights legislation anyone? We are a registered society and are dealing with public funds. I think I convinced them that they cannot hire this spouse, but if they decide they will despite my protest I will have to resign.

Gratuitous

Chilling with mummy. He has figured out that he should smile for the camera! Thank goodness we already got his passport photo done.

Battle of Wills

I remember when I was 8 or so months pregnant, I told D very seriously that I wanted the baby in our room for at least 6 weeks. HAAAA ha ha ha HHAAA ha ha ha HAAAAA ha ha HAAA. (*Wipes tears from eyes.*) Little did I know that we'd be nearing the six month mark and the kid would still be NOWHERE near close to sleeping through the night and nowhere near close to being out of our room. He goes down in his crib fine at bedtime and I keep telling myself, someday, he'll just sleep in there all the way until morning!

It didn't happen last night though - he went down at 7 and woke at 9. I was burnt out from a long and rather fussy day and I asked D to deal with it. LM often wakes at 9, but usually goes down again with just a little pat. But not last night. D spent an hour on the exercise ball before he gave up and I gave him the almighty boob. I'd been sitting in an inch of water (my attempt at a relaxing bath aborted because the water running keeps him up) the whole time thinking "I am NOT going to do it..." I knew the breast would probably work, but I just really wanted a few hours off. I should know that once I let myself think I am entering into a battle of wills, I lose every single time. I have already lost. But I finally gave in and he went down. He was up again at 1. And 3. And up for the day at quarter-to-five. Oh, and yes that is a typical night for us. Yay.

No one else I know seems to be having the same sort of sleep problems with their baby. It makes me feel like such a freak. On my bad days, I wonder how could I do be doing it so wrong? What did I do so that his sleep is actually worse than it was when he was a newborn? But on my good days I do know it's him, and not me, and I remind myself that my next baby is going to be an AWESOME sleeper.

Where's My Book?

One of the things that bothered me when I was pregnant was that a lot of the home birth literature has this almost fanatical bent to it. I mean, on the one hand, one of the main arguments in favour of home birth is that women should have control and choices in how they birth and should do what is comfortable for them. But then a lot of the proponents are so dead certain that there's only one right way to do it - and that conceding to any intervention is some sort of failure. They make it seem like in order to have a home birth you must be so hardcore about it that afterwards you're going to cook up the placenta and eat it for dinner. (Which reminds me, our placenta is still in our freezer, but I digress.) So in that sense, the proponents alienate those who might otherwise consider it because they make it seem like it isn't a mainstream choice. And as a result a lot of our friends and family thought we were doing it just to make a point, when in fact, we felt that for us it was a safe and sensible choice.

I find the same thing with breastfeeding sometimes. I'm not planning to wean at six months, or even a year. If what I've read is true it will be possible to continue breastfeeding in the morning and evening even when I'm working. I have no idea how significant the health benefits of breastfeeding are past the infant stage, and frankly, I don't care. I enjoy it and so does he. I remember thinking that with mothers who breastfeed toddlers "It's really as much about her..." Now I realise, well, duh, yeah! If I enjoy bonding with my kid that way, why not?

So I was mildly interested when I stumbled across a book about a breastfeeding toddler - but then the whole book is so hardcore; these people only shop at a farmer's market, and they don't own a car; their happy toddler is permanently in a sling on their hip or in a bike seat. I do admire that lifestyle in some ways, but it's not the one I've chosen. And it seems to me that people who relate to that book don't need a book like that to encourage breastfeeding an older child - I'm sure their happy granola circle and all their pals on the mothering.com forums are extremely supportive. Where's the pro-breastfeeding book for the condo-dwelling child of corporate drones? Now that's one I'd add to my Amazon.com wishlist.

Cave People Were Short

I did something atrociously stupid the other day. Makes my heart stop just to think about it. I must admit, I do have a tendency to rationalise my parenting decisions by saying "Well, before Western civilisation...", or "When we were cavepeople..." Cavepeople slept with their babies, didn't schedule naps, didn't breastfeed for 10 minutes per side, didn't worry about whether baby had rolled over et cetera. So fitting in with that philosophy, I've had this romantic idea that I'll be very organic in how I introduce food to LM. No processed rice cereals or jarred foods - I'll just read his cues, let him explore food, and let nature and millions of years of evolution take their course.

So when he reached out for a piece of apple I was eating and held on, I didn't wrestle it away from him. I figured he'd suck on it a little with his as-yet-toothless gums and get used to some new flavours. But gums are stronger than I thought and he managed to bite off a piece. By the time I realised what had happened, and did the finger-sweep, it had disappeared down the gullet with much gagging and coughing. I thought he might be choking (and I'm still not entirely sure he wasn't) so I flipped him forward and began patting vigorously. He settled down and stopped but a minute later he vomited many, many times. Which is actually kind of weird considering he got hold of a piece of paper when we were in the car the other day and ate half of it, yet that didn't make him sick. But apparently apple doesn't agree with him as much as bonded eight by 11, and I had the traumatic experience of watching him throw up ounce upon ounce knowing it was my fault.

In my defence, my mother was there and encouraged him to take the apple. She felt even worse than I did. "You know I would NEVER normally do something that stupid," she said. I think she was worried I'd never leave him alone with her again. But I should have known better.

Just beforehand, I'd been telling my mother how I'm not going to do rice cereal because all that iron isn't all that well-absorbed anyway, and besides, when we were cave people no one had rice cereal.

"Well, yes" she said diplomatically, "but you can see the difference that good nutrition makes in just one generation."

And now I've remembered, cave people were really, really short. And they lived in caves. And they ate raw meat and insects. Suddenly rice cereal and jarred food isn't looking so bad.

The only bright part of the experience was realising that I was able to stay calm in the moment when I thought my precious baby, the light of my life, might be choking on something I had foolishly given him.

P.S. If you want to make me feel better, tell me something stupid that you did to your baby (or pet, or baby sitting charge et cetera).

Another Weekend

I need to buy a carseat soon. Sad but true - we have to return the infant seat we borrowed next month. Mind you, carrying a seventeen pound baby in an infant seat isn't that fun anyway, although it is fantastic for the arms.

We have a very small, very battered car that we will not be replacing particularly soon given that we are planning to throw all of our money into a home in the very near future. So I am considering the Britax Roundabout. It goes to 40lb and I think it will be small enough for our car. Our 10-year old car does not have any sort of LATCH system, but I understand that the Britaxes can be secured with just a seatbelt. I also wonder, do the 65lb seats really take up that much more room than an infant seat? Do you think that would see LM until age 3? By then we'd probably have a new car, and we hope to have a new baby, so at that stage I'd buy him one of those behemoth carseats that go to 65 lb and put new baby into the Roundabout. Just wondering, since the infant seat is reclined so you'd think it'd take up more space. Because if they do fit, then I'd just get the big one and skip the one with a 40-lb limit.

Our house hunt continues. We saw a place that was very promising although the basement absolutely reeked of dog, masked by some sort of vanilla air freshener. The combination was quite overwhelming but the house was actually very cute. D wasn't with me though, so we'll only put in an offer if it hasn't sold by next weekend.

It's interesting what different people focus on in houses. At one place, our real estate agent (who is gay) immediately pegged it as being owned by two lesbians. He spotted the rainbow-coloured umbrella and the Rosie the Riveter poster, along with the framed photo of two women. My gaydar is just not tuned in like that.

P.S. Shout-out to Michelle and adorable (I'm sure) new baby Colin!

Solid Ground

LM has been asleep for 36 minutes and counting, which means I am seriously tempting fate by starting a blog post. If I want anything done, it needs to be started at the beginning of nap time.

House-hunting continues apace. We have two more to see tomorrow, which we're excited about. Both are in a wonderful neighbourhood. One looks ideal, but it's a little closer to a busy road than we'd like. The other is in a better location, but probably needs more work.

Ahhh. Patience makes perfect. Or something. I'm a big believer in the idea that we'll end up where we're meant to be. The substitute real estate agent (ours in on hols), who is extremely helpful and sweet, was a bit over-excited about one and mentioned how many people were going through it today. Well, if we're meant to be in it, it will wait for us because I don't want to rush over there this afternoon without D.

In other news, I'm interested in how many of my friends and peers are starting their kids on solids early.

I took a prenatal class with a six couples. I absolutely LOVED it. Some of it could be a bit overly granola-crunchy; I think we all found that. But sometimes it helps to get that perspective since we get the other perspective almost everywhere else. We had two sessions on breastfeeding, attended by mums and dads. Of the women in that class, all of them are exclusively breastfeeding, and none are planning on introducing solids early.

I was also part of another mother's group of six. None of them did a prenatal class that focussed on breastfeeding. All of them wanted and planned to exclusively breastfeed, but none have done it without medication for supply issues, or some formula supplementation. Most of them are planning to introduce solids well before six months. Obviously not scientific but it does bolster my theory that lots of "supply" issues are actually caused by misinformation and poor advice. I do add the caveat that one of those mothers could not have breastfed exclusively anyway because of breast reduction surgery, and in that respect she was given quite bad advice from the pro-BF camp, many of whom encouraged her to think that she would be able to do so. It was quite heartbreaking to realise she could not, and a lactation consultant later confessed she had never met a woman who'd undergone that surgery who could. It would have been better (and kinder) to prepare her for the fact that breastfeeding under those circumstances is going to be challenging and formula supplementatin would likely be needed. Instead she had to figure that out in that crazy hormonal immediate post-partum period as her baby failed to thrive.

In any case I will be waiting on solids. I'm sure some babies are genuinely ready before six months, but I don't think LM is one of them - his gas still wakes him crying and I am wary of throwing anything else in the mix. At least, that's what I say to the mothers and relatives who ask "why wait?" I must admit another part of it is just that it looks awfully busy... I can hardly plan meals for myself - planning them for LM just seems a lot of work.

In any case LM is up now (what... you think I actually wrote this whole post with him asleep?) and so we're off as he won't be content to suck on my arm as I type for too many more minutes.

Another Thought

After a weekend of trying to get excited about places that are well over half a mil, yet are all, in real estate speak "in need of TLC" and are in far distant parts of town, I've had another thought - the joint buy. That's right, buying a place with an in-law suite that we co-own with my mother. She'd rent out her part until she's more doddering and ready to downsize and live in it. In the meantime we'd rent it out. I'm actually pretty excited about the idea, and importantly, so is D. Oh, and of course my mother.

It will probably take longer to find the right place, but we could get a lot more. I'm not too worried about personal space - if anything, it would likely be my mother who would have to set boundaries on us. She's very sensitive to not 'intruding'. I guess the only wrinkle would be if D and I decided we didn't want to be in this city any more, or if she did. But I suppose by buying a place in the first place we are committing to being here for a while, and the way real estate is around here we'd stand to make some money even if we had to sell in five years. The demand here is so high that I don't see a crash happening - and even if there was a crash, it doesn't matter if your money is invested in a small single family home, or a larger one with a suite. So what do you think? Would you ever do it?

I'm watching the View right now while LM naps, and I just can't believe Whoopi is doing LA Weight Loss commercials. The commercials are so damn cheap looking. Speaking of naps, all my smugness about LM's sleep lately? It's gotten pretty bad again. Naps are working all right though there was a brief interlude where he stopped napping too. He was actually in a perfectly fine mood during that stint - but I almost went out of my mind - entertaining a baby for 12 hours a day is exhausting. That's improved again, but he is up SOOOO often at night. It's quite incredible. I keep reminding myself - everything is a phase!

20-something versus 30-something moms

There was an article in the Washington Post recently about the friction between 20-something college-educated parents and the 30-something parents who are the norm in their circles. The examples are hardly compelling: one of the 20-something mothers said she feels like they are "looking" at her, and that they must assume she's the babysitter. A younger father talks about it being "hard to connect" with other Dads; he says "One of them was wearing, like, a Rolling Stones type of sweat shirt. I like the Rolling Stones, but I didn't grow up with them. I can't say, 'Hey, let's go grab a cup of coffee,' ""

Well why the hell not if you want to have a coffee? Lame, lame, lame, lame.

I am, just barely, a 20-something mother. I look pretty young for my age; occasionally I am still carded - and remember the drinking age here is 19. (The haggard fatigue in my face has meant that hasn't happened in the last four months, but I like to think I still have a pretty youthful face.) I live in an apartment in a neighbourhood where there are mostly million-dollar homes, so understandably the families living in them typically are older than I am.

I don't have a single 20-something mommy friend. And yet, I have lots of mommy friends. I hang out with a PhD student, a university prof, a hair stylist, a lawyer, a web designer, a chartered accountant, a woman who works for non-profits. These first time mothers range in age from 30-40, which most of them being around 35. None of them have ever excluded me because I am younger, in some cases more than 10 years younger. A couple of times I have been asked my age - I think because I am clearly younger, people are curious as to how much younger. And once I was asked, by a mother (the lawyer), if LM was planned. But that's probably more to do with the fact that it is obvious to another lawyer that I had him at a pretty odd time from a career perspective. I really have no problem admitting that he wasn't.

I guess I just don't buy that 30-something mothers are exclusive or unwilling to be friends. That's the amazing thing about motherhood - you automatically have something to talk about. Whether you have anything to talk about other than parenthood, well that depends. But if you're looking for mom friends, they're not hard to find.

The one part of the article I did relate to a bit is the fact that 20-something friends don't necessarily "get" it. I haven't really seen any of them since LM was born. The offers for babysitting haven't exactly rolled in, or even suggestions of getting together. But if I'm honest, I'd say that it's definitely as much my fault. The first few months he required so much that I couldn't really leave him for more than a few hours. Now that I actually have a little flexibility to go out, I'm a bit out of touch.

There are many issues facing younger parents in urban centres, including financial issues, career planning, cost of housing, lack of suitable or affordable childcare, lack of appropriate parental leave allowances. I guess I find it bizarre that the Post decides to focus on a few whiny upper-middle class parents who "feel like" they have no one to talk to while at Gymboree. Pardon me if I don't start sobbing into my soup.

(Added: I just watched the video that accompanies the story, which is far less irritating from this perspective. It's still kind of inane, but less irritating.)

(Also: LM's virus? One of his younger friends has it too and is in the hospital on oxygen and with an IV in his head. Makes me even more annoyed that the clinic doctor was so dismissive.)

I'm Bored, Therefore I Blog

BLAHHHH! Another day of mat leave - another evening spent alone reading blogs and playing online Scrabble while baby sleeps. Not sure if this has come across yet in my other posts (hah), but I really hate the fact that my husband works SOOOOO many hours!

You know what would be amazing? If I were on mat leave but I worked one day a week at a trendy clothing store; or maybe two half-days. Just enough to have intrigue and drama to talk about (because the owners and customers of this mythical trendy store would be very intriguing) but still loads of time for baby sign language classes and pushing the stroller in the sunshine while sipping a (dairy-free) frapo-mocha-tini. (I won't be insulted if that last sentence makes you throw up in your mouth a little - but I do love my baby sign.) Unfortunately childcare would cost me more than I could make in any trendy store, so that will remain a pipe dream. Imagine that - longing to work retail. Think of the discounts.

Anyway I may be off to bed since I am likely in for another long night - the wee man has bronchitis and his coughing wakes him often. And because he is thirsty or perhaps has a sore throat from the cough, he decides to wake me. I took him in last week but the random doctor at the walk-in clinic said "Oh, it's a cold." Um, yeah, I figured, but the kid coughed so hard he barfed and the nurse's line told me to bring him in. Sadly the walk-in doctor didn't spend enough time with us for me to express those concerns. After a quick once over with a cold stethoscope that made him cry, she just said "Steam him in the shower and feed him more often." The nurse's line made the exact same suggestions so I was super-happy to have bundled him up, driven to the clinic and waited in a room full of people much sicker than us. It's not that I wanted drugs - far from it - but another 30 seconds of reassurance and maybe some suggestions of what to watch for would have been nice. The clinic was not so busy that she couldn't have given that to a worried first-time mum.

And doesn't the "feed them more" advice seem silly? It assumes you don't demand feed - because if you're demand feeding you can't really feed them more since they eat whenever they're hungry. And since most doctors advocate demand feeding (at least that's the advice given to most of my IRL friends and chatroom buddies) shouldn't it be the baseline of normal? The advice should be "continue to demand feed." Which is what our family doctor said today at our four-month visit. (Yay!) She also diagnosed the bronchitis and spent a few minutes giving me advice on what to do and answering my questions. Now just hoping he recovers fast.

In other news - is this not the face of an angel? Don't you want to bury your face in that double chin?

Flux

Well after my awesome (and long!) sleep post the other day I had a horrendous night last night - every two hours. Lots of dairy + cold + teeth possibly = very bad night. Anyway, I remain optimistic about tonight and am now back off the dairy.

When I was in law school I was so active in all this law-related volunteer stuff. Gave legal advice to low income folks, attended lectures on cases, participated in a women's law group. Now I get e-mails on this stuff and I just DO NOT care at all even one tiny little bit. It all seems so abstract and divorced from reality. It irritates me when it arrives in my inbox. Hoping that feeling fades.

To follow up on my earlier post I will say that I do remain optimistic that the perfect career is out there for me. I hope it's not super-far-removed from where I am right now, but I am going to try to stop stressing about it and trust that if I don't love what I'm doing once I start doing it again, I have the power to change it. I may surprise myself.

D worked a god-awful number of hours last week and barely saw LM (or moi.) Was quite bad. And I am tired of microwave dinners alone. He was planning to go down to four days a week after I go back to work, but now we're wondering if he should do it now. It would mean 20% less pay, which is scary. But you can't buy back this time either. I don't know, I don't know. It will be his decision.

His place of employ is staffed mainly by men. The partners don't see their families all week and are often away on weekends. When they do have a night off they play rugby with the guys from work... it's hard in that environment to request more family time - it's like an implicit insult to the choices they've made. But I just wonder what their wives get out of a relationship like that? The big house in the right part of town, the 2.4 kids in private school, the vacations to Dominican, but no time with your husband? I want more from my marriage - I want my husband. And I don't want to give up that kind of time either.

Sleep Strategies

Sleep is such a polarising issue with parents. Everyone has an opinion. Just today my dentist, completely unsolicited, told me that Ferberizing his kids was the way to go - best decision ever. His hygienist even wrote the name of the book down for me. And "How he's sleeping?" is always the first question people ask. I ask it too... it's just one of those dumb things you say when you can't think of anything else to ask about.

Anyway, I decided early that I wouldn't try to worry about getting Little Man sleeping through the night because it's normal for them to wake a lot and parenting doesn't end at bedtime and all that other rhetoric. Nonetheless, at three months I found myself a little sleep-obsessed when LM was getting up almost every hour, or every two. And he was refusing to nap except in our arms. And he screamed every time we put him near his crib and could only get him to fall asleep in our bed with us in it. That's okay at night, but not exactly safe during the day.

His schedule was approximately this: wake at seven-thirty, be up for the day with a few catnaps here and there - in the carrier, the car seat, on me; occasionally he'd nap in his crib if we put him there after he fell asleep but he'd wake after 20 minutes. Then to bed at 7:30 where I nursed him to sleep. He'd then wake frequently between then and my bedtime. For a while it worked to just comfort him, but after a while he wouldn't calm down unless I nursed him again. That habit was starting to get trying because it meant D couldn't put him back to sleep.

So I decided to try and figure out some options. It seems like there are two major schools of sleep and anyone on a mom's message board will give you one of two pieces of advice: "Let 'em cry" or "Do whatever it takes - you're the one who signed up for this job." After scraping my car against a stationary post, collapsing in tears a couple of times, and just feeling utterly exhausted I decided sleep deprivation is not conducive to good parenting so "whatever it takes" just wasn't working. One day I was so frustrated I just left the room and let him cry for 15 minutes while I stood in the shower, drowning out his cries. It seems pretty silly in retrospect, but when you're so incredibly tired, these molehills become mountains. I resented him for not "letting" me have a break. Which is ridiculous. When I realised that, I decided a little sleep strategising was a whole lot better than the status quo.

I figured I'd start with naps, and hope the rest followed. I tried a technique I found on a website called "Pick-Up/Put-D*wn". I must admit I think it originates in the Baby Wh1sperer, a book I'm not overly fond of because it says by Day 2 or 3 you should put baby on a schedule and quit demand feeding. I can only imagine that approach leads to major supply issues if you are breastfeeding. Despite those origins, I was desperate for at least a nice three-hour stretch at night and maybe a little downtime during the day so I decided to try it.

The "technique" was this: put him in the crib, when he cries (which in LM's case happened almost before you put him down), pick him up. When he stops, put him down again. (Note: I think the "technique" only works if by picking them up you can get them to stop within a relatively short period of time.) If you read the rationale in the Baby Wh1sperer for doing this, it's really annoying: something about how you should meet your baby's need but do no more. Luckily I didn't read that before trying, but to me it did seem to be a reasonable way to get him to understand that the crib is safe, mummy comes when you need her, but it's okay to sleep there.

So I tried the "method": picking up and putting down for 40 minutes. The minute I lowered him in the crib, he'd cry. I'd rub him and say "Sleepytime!" Then when he didn't stop, I'd pick him up again. The picking up did calm him and eventually he was so tired he'd doze off in my arms. When he did that I'd put him down again. Finally he relented, and fell asleep in the crib. For 20 minutes. Still, better than nothing.

Day 1, Nap 2: We did it again, and it was another 30 minutes of up and down; he fell asleep. At night I did my usual routine and put him in our bed since I decided only to do the crib thing when I could afford to be consistent, and I wasn't committing to consistency at 3 a.m.

Day 2, Nap 1: He settles in crib without a fuss. He slept for 45 minutes. Knock me over with a feather. Nap 2: Minor fussing, some pick-ups, some put-downs, he finally settles in about 5 minutes.

Blah blah blah - 2 weeks later, he settles in his crib pretty easily for all naps - 3 to 4 a day which range from 40 minutes to two hours (sometimes with a nursing break in between). There has been some back-tracking, like when he won't settle for 5 or 6 minutes. But that's just SOOO much better than the 45 minutes D and I used to have to spend rocking him only to have him wake up the minute we put him down. If I "catch" him early enough he'll just drift off with just a few pats on the tummy.

As for nights, as I suspected, more sleep in the day has led to better nighttimes. All babies have light sleep cycles, and I think whenever LM stirred, instead of just dozing off again he became freaked out that I wasn't there. So he'd demand to nurse. He always slept better in the bed with me, as opposed to the bed or crib alone, which backs up this theory. But since he got used to falling asleep in the crib, he doesn't need to nurse each and every time he enters a new sleep cycle and generally only "calls" me when he is hungry - which means occasionally I even get a 5-hour stretch. I also did a little detective work on those wakings and realised some of them were gas-related. A daily dose of probiotics has helped that problem quite a bit.

So that's my story... despite or perhaps because of nearly falling into the "crying-it-out" trap, I'm still vehemently opposed to the traditional "letting him cry." There was some crying involved in the method (though depending on the temperament of your baby there might not be - LM has always been quick to cry.) But I'd like to think it was a lot less traumatic since he was being comforted through it all. The idea of walking away from a crying baby is still pretty repugnant to me. After all, I trained him to fall asleep in my arms and to need to be close to me. And I don't regret that one bit - I love nursing him to sleep and I love occasionally having him in the bed and I still do both. But there are ways, that will probably be different for different babies, of diversifying your get-to-sleep options.

My copy of "No-Cry Sleep Solution" came into the library this week; some of my ideas were gleaned from that website so I'm hoping reading the book will help me deal with future issues as they arise. I'm sure this isn't the last sleep post I'll write, but I hope it's the last one for a little while.

Travelling as Three

We had our weekend away at D's retreat - the one that I was stressing about due to child care arrangements. I must say, my stress had dropped significantly in the past week, mainly because LM's sleep has gotten a lot better, and he doesn't seem to need to cluster feed in the evening anymore, so I knew I wouldn't be as stressed about him being hungry while I was gone.

So on the first night the nanny came a bit early; LM was in a bit of state, being very tired, but she kept talking to him so he'd get to know her voice. And she kept telling me how beautiful he was - bonus points already. Plus she gave him kisses. I know some people might be squeamish about that kind of attention from a stranger, but my biggest worry was that she'd be unsympathetic to his cries. So a nanny who was free with kisses was just the affectionate sort I was hoping for.

I nursed him just before leaving but he wouldn't take much. He settled nicely in the crib. Because we were away, he didn't really know he was in a crib and therefore was quite content to explore his (extremely sterile) new environment. If he'd known what it was, and that he was expected to sleep in it, I think he'd have kicked up quite a fuss. He's not the type of kid who will drift off if you put him in a crib awake, though he did that night.

I went in at 9:30 to check on him and he was still asleep, though apparently he had woken once and she'd played with him and put him back down. That was fine by me. I'd told her the goal wasn't to be strict about getting him to sleep, but to just to keep him as happy as possible, or at least to minimise unhappiness. She said she'd gotten him back to sleep by rocking the crib and shaking a toy over the crib as if it were a mobile. My presence woke him so I fed him and then went back to the party (actually - went for a soak in the hot tub.) When I got back to the room at 11 he was still asleep and didn't wake again until 2.

The next night we were a 15-minute walk away, but since the first night had gone so smoothly I was less stressed. He also had a long feed, so that made me feel better about being gone for four hours. But I still had my cell on the table the whole time and checked in obsessively. When I got back at 11, he was in her arms sleeping. She said "He just didn't like his bed." Aha - he'd figured out it was a crib! I tried to feed him but his lips remain pursed, so he was not hungry, though he did eventually wake and feed.

So all in all a success! I'm not in a huge rush to leave him again with a stranger, but D and I are going to start going out on dates a little more often. We actually had a date last week while he was with D's parents that was lovely.

In other news, you may be curious what we brought for a weekend away:

Here's the list:
-3 sleepers (one for each night, plus an extra in case of leakage)
-3 outfits (one for each day, plus one in case of leakage/drool etc.) (He also wore one there... so
I guess that's four outfits)
-2 pairs of socks
-1 bib - unused; but if we hadn't brought it he'd have been in drool mode, I'm sure!
-24 disposable diapers (didn't use all of them)
-3 receiv