Is My Boy More Active Than Yours?

Friday, March 15th, 2013

 Emmett never stops. He is a tank, a brute of boundless energy.  At his 1-year check-up the pediatrician, who has been with him since birth, reiterated again that my dude may need Occupational Therapy to find ways to Slow.Him.Down. He is the most active child she’s seen that’s not on the spectrum or that has any mental or health issues.  Even changing his diaper has been a challenge since he was, oh, 5 months old. Thank god for his amazing temperament or I might consider selling him.

“You are going to have to run him twice a day. For at least an hour each time. He is the kind of kid who will need to be worn out. Every-single-day,” she said.

I pictured a horse let out to pasture. Or a dog during off-leash hours in the park. I then pictured Emmet’s face on both beasts. Yup. That’s my boy. I decided I needed to find an activity for us to do together. One that wasn’t awful.  Or disastrous (like Fia’s ballet class).This time I was smarter. I decided on Toddler Gymnastics. I should have thought of it sooner, since Fia goes to the same gym. I know the coaches, the facility, the drill.

He was the youngest one but kept up with the best of them. He loved the trampoline the most. He giggled incessantly. Of course he wouldn’t sit still and wait his turn. I had to pull him away and run him (yes, my horse) until it was his time. He hated the balance beam. It took both me and the coach to try and hold him upright. He kept doing the “baby flop”–you know, when they go limp. I’m sure because it would take too much concentration to walk slowly. I had no time to stare at the clock or dream about my lunch like I did in other mommy and me classes. But that’s a good thing. I hate being bored.

I took him early and we left late. I really thought I “ran” him good. Then we came home and he slept for 30 minutes. Should I put up my For Sale sign yet? WTF??

Three nights this week he has shrieked off and on for 3 hours. Phil and I have taken turns going in when we can’t take it anymore. He’s not sick. He’s not teething. He just wants to be held. He is one strong-willed little dude. And he knows it. I think in a test of wills he will win. Actually he already has. But man, he’s so damn cute and snuggly at times. He knows just when to turn on the charm to keep that For Sale sign at bay.

You all know I am a sleep training guru, but even I know when to throw in the towel. Since he won in the cry-it-out category, last night we switched tactics. I went in on the first wail around midnight. In less than 20 seconds I put his paci back in and laid him down. I said in a fairly stern voice, “Emmett, it’s night time.” I closed the door. He didn’t peep until around 3 am. I did it again. He slept until 7:15.

I think he just needs reassurance that we are there. Even when he’s running he pauses and looks back to check that I’m still with him. I’m usually a few paces behind, sweating. I am soon going to need a cane. Boys. Men. It’s hard to keep up with them. They are needy little f–kers. But impossible to resist.

Is it Time to “Mom-Up” About Sleep Training?

Tuesday, September 4th, 2012

At 7 months, I decided it was finally time to say goodbye to my “hired” village, and as my friend and Babble blogger Cassandra Barry likes to say, “Mom-Up.” I had to get rid of my night ladies. Places in Africa needed water wells for god’s sake. I think I could have built/dug 20 so far if I hadn’t employed my gals.

It’s just that with Fia, I was such a wreck from no sleep and no hired help, that I kinda lost my sh-t. We Ferberized her at 4 1/2 months. I became evangelical about the beauty and benefits of sleep training. With Emmett, I’ve done the opposite. I have managed to find all sorts of excuses–some valid, others not–to put it off.

He has reflux. He has gas pains. He’s farting too much. He must be in pain. He’s pooping too much. He must be in pain. He’s not pooping enough. He is constipated. He ate too much. His tummy hurts. He didn’t eat enough. He must be hungry.

This little dude has me weak in the knees with his ridiculously happy temperament that it’s been hard to think about letting him cry.

But the real reason I haven’t done it is I’m not tired! I think in order to go full throttle on sleep training, you have to reach the brink of insanity and misery. Or be falling asleep at red lights. Or have your husband threaten to check you into the psych ward.  Instead, with 8 hours of sleep a night, I have bounced happily through his infant stage, feeling pretty damn good as our bank account dwindles.

Phil and I both started talking about sleep training oh, about 4 months ago. Emmett would sleep happily on one of us while we watched every episode of Storage Wars, The Daily Show, and Breaking Bad. I wasn’t frantically going to bed at 8 pm, hoping to get a 3-hour stretch of zzz’s.

“When are we going to sleep train Emmett?” Phil would ask. “Soon,” I’d say, sipping my wine, not taking my eyes off the TV.  Neither of us were exactly motivated.

At 10 pm, we’d hear the knock on the door and in came our night help.

Frankly, with that set up, I didn’t want to “Mom-Up.” I mean, no one gets an award for lack of sleep, so for me, this was the right decision. To a point. But then it became a bit ridiculous. A little too easy. And I knew it was also in Emmett’s best interest to learn to put himself to sleep. Not to mention we needed our house back. And to some extent, our freedom. I didn’t want to travel anywhere because I knew I’d be the one losing sleep. Having a night nurse does get limiting–in an upper-class-problem kind of way.

So, with this 3-day weekend, we decided it was time.

Night 1:

This one was pretty bad. We put him down at 8:30 pm. He was up at 10:30. I changed his diaper (was only wet). He was up again at 11. I went in and tickled the back of his perfect neck (god I love that boy). He fell asleep until 1:30. Then started to wail. Fia woke up and started wailing too. Phil was running one way, I the other. It would have been comedic if it weren’t the middle of the night. Phil got Fia back down then came into Emmett’s room. I was sitting there rocking him.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought he pooped,” I said, knowing he hadn’t.

“Look, we are either doing this or not. If you can’t handle it, go down and sleep on the couch, and I’ll do it.”

“No, no, you’re right. Okay.”

I put him down (asleep) and walked out. He slept until 3:25. Then we let him cry for an hour. But before everyone freaks out at my cruelty, it wasn’t like he wailed for an hour. He would calm himself down and have 5-10 minute bouts of sleep. Then gear up again. Neither of us went in.

He slept until 7. The worst night was over.

Night 2:

Much better. He woke up at 10:30. I changed his diaper. He slept until 4 a.m. Cried for 7 minutes. I didn’t go in. He put himself back asleep until 6:30.

Night 3:

Down at 8 pm. A small crying fit at 3:30 for 5 minutes. Not a peep until 6.

I think we are there. And I am feeling this tremendous sense of freedom. I’m already planning our next two trips. As happy as Emmett was, I think he’s even happier now. He too is getting the sleep he needs. I also get to say I’ve “Mom-ed Up.” At least in the nights. No way am I getting rid of my daytime help. I still think Cassandra will be proud.

It also goes to show that there isn’t just one “right” way. This is a good lesson for my judgmental self. I was so sure that Ferbering at 3-4 months was the only way to go. Until I read Bringing Up Bebe. Then I thought I should have done everything differently to have my kids sleeping through at 4 weeks via “The Pause.” I was cursing myself (though by Chapter 6, I was annoyed by the book).

But now I have a baby who is sleeping through the night, who can still take naps on me during the day or sleep on us occasionally while we watch TV. I have flexibility to do what I want when I want. And for me, that’s the true definition of “Mom-ing Up.”

I’ve Been Had…by a 2-year old

Tuesday, January 17th, 2012

Happily Eating Her Churro at the Zoo

God help me. I just wrote a post about feeling like a big crumb in letting Fia Scream It Out last night. Explained in the post that on a playdate yesterday my mom friend told me that perhaps she was waking up so often because of an ear infection. I didn’t really pay heed. Then, lo and behold, after 90 minutes of screaming last night, I went into Fia’s room and she says “Ear hurts.” I nearly toppled over.

Okay, she is just over 2 years old.

She always says various body parts are hurting, so I’ll kiss them. Ear has never come up. (Somehow, even though she gets gobs of attention, she must still be wanting more with these constant “hurts.” Maybe because new baby is coming?) I knew she must be telling the truth. And my puzzle was rapidly coming together.

For background: as this mom and I were discussing the ear thing, Fia was loudly playing with another boy, jumping up and down on his bed. She wasn’t paying attention to us or what we were talking about. Or so I thought.

Our sleep conversation used the word “ear” once…maybe twice. The whole discussion was about 3 minutes long.

When the doc came in to examine her ear this afternoon, she points to the opposite one. I instantly had this sinking feeling, like, Oh no, she can’t be making this up, right? Right?

He looks in that ear. Declares it perfect. Looks in the other one. Perfect as well. I am almost in tears. I’m so G-d D-mn tired, I can’t believe I still have no solution to her sleep issues.

But get this: I now think my little busybody overheard our conversation and somehow used it in the night. I know, that’s giving a 25-month-old a lot of brain credit. But I think it’s true. I think she is my little master manipulator. I cringe to think about her teenage years. We will definitely have to move to New Zealand and become sheepherders. That way when she sneaks out her bedroom window, she’ll only have the sheep to party with.

I tell the doc everything. Bunny clock, going in at 5, 10, 15 minute increments, letting her cry for 90 mins. And, of course I have to disclose that we bring her into bed with us when we can’t take it anymore.

He told me that the bed thing is the kiss of death. And that she might scream for 4 hours. But that if I want to have her back on her schedule, I absolutely cannot bring her into bed with us. Especially now that we know nothing is wrong with her. He said it may take 3-5 nights. I have 6 nights before my c-section. So once again, we’re starting tonight and this time refusing to give in.

I took her to the zoo after the appointment. As she chased a peacock, she turned and said to me, “Mama, ear hurts. Kiss it.” I looked at her, started laughing and said, “Fia, your ear does not hurt.” She got this mischievous grin on her face, laughed, and ran after the bird. I waddled after her. This girl is going to keep me on my toes. Always. She is trouble. Pure and simple. But I love her so. Now GO THE F-CK TO SLEEP!

Milestone Monday: Toddler Testing

Monday, January 16th, 2012

Author’s Note: Join me every Monday as I share Fia’s ongoing milestone (mis)adventures–from potty training to talking to everything in between. Mayhem and mischief guaranteed on Milestone Monday!

I am writing this with bleary eyes today from another sleepless night. Just when I think I’ve got it down (wrote last week about solving the sleep problem), she throws a curve ball.

Last night Fia started crying at midnight. WTF??? I went in, laid her back down, not saying a word. Woke up again at 12:40. I laid her down again. Then at 1:30, she woke up, at which point I changed her diaper. She’s never been bothered by a heavy diaper, but am just trying to crack the code. Told her we weren’t coming back in.

She screamed for an hour. At 2:30, with neither Phil nor I sleeping, I gave in. Put her in the guest bed with me. I’d like to note there wasn’t one tear on her face. Nor a runny nose. So she was just screaming. I couldn’t fall asleep as she kept thrashing about in bed. I feel like hell today.

I think I may have to go to straight CIO (Cry It Out) tonight. Tell her when we put her down that mommy and daddy aren’t coming in until morning. And stick to it. I guess we’ll alternate sleeping downstairs (where we can’t hear her as much), etc. But how much you want to bet, just to mess with us, she’ll sleep through the night? (not complaining if that happens, but just making a point). I swear I am following a moving target. And I can’t keep up.

I think some of this might be the testing phase of a toddler. For example, when I was putting her PJ’s on, I pulled out the ones with monkeys. “No Monkeys!” she said. “Mice and cats.” Okay, so I got those out and put the monkeys away. Started to put them on her.

“No cats. Want Monkeys.”

“Fia,” I said, “Which do you want? You make the decision and it’s final.”

“Monkeys,” she said. So that’s what we ended up with.

She has a crib tent that we have started using (I wrote awhile back about how I didn’t think it would work, but we tried again and she seems to like it, or at least not mind it). With her screaming, and leaning over the crib, I can’t chance her falling out.

Last night we didn’t initially zip it. But at the 1:30 wake up, I went in and she said in a very emphatic voice, “Zip it!” So I zipped it.

She did the same thing the other night with Cleo when Phil and I were at dinner. Cleo zipped it and she slept the whole night.

But then last night after I zipped it, she started pounding on it (it’s mesh, so it doesn’t make a noise). She seemed like a caged animal. I couldn’t watch her flail like that. Which is why I finally just put her in bed with me.

I keep thinking of what my Brooklyn pediatrician told me last week in email when I reached out to her about the sleep problems.

“They are smart little buggers. Give them an inch, they’ll take a mile.”

So I guess I need to zip it when I put her down so it doesn’t become a reason for debate at 3 a.m. And make a decision to allow her to SIO (Scream It Out….my new acronym.). They say consistency is key. And not to mix methods.

We are 8 days out from the new baby coming, I am exhausted in this pregnancy and being tortured at night. I’m just not sure what to do. And that depresses me. Bleh.

Picture of crib via Shutterstock

I Killed Bunny: My Sleep Training Breakthrough

Thursday, January 12th, 2012

Sleeping Sans Bunny Clock. Thank God!

Okay, so I just posted today a long blog about my latest issues and troubleshooting/advice in regards to Fia’s sleep regression.  I said that she seemed to be grasping the idea that when, “Bunny wakes up” (the clock we got for her), “Fia wakes up.” I was hopeful.

However, today, I killed bunny. Yup. He’s dead. And I’m overjoyed.

Here’s what happened the night after I thought she was “getting” it with the bunny clock. She was up at 11, 12:30, 1, 2:30, 3:30, 4, 4:50….in which point I finally put her in bed with me. It was worse than her newborn days.

Side note: if you have a child who has been sleeping fine and suddenly there is regression, every expert tells you to examine what is different; what has changed. I couldn’t think of anything…until…

Bingo. It came to me bright as bunny (did I really just write that sentence? That is f–ked up).

She finally “got” that she had a job to do, ie. wake up when bunny wakes up. She didn’t want to shirk her duties or disappoint. She takes her jobs/tasks very seriously. She was up constantly checking on bunny. I even heard her through the monitor and every time I went in and laid her back down. She’d recite: “Bunny awake, Fia awake. Bunny sleeping, Fia sleeping.”

Poor thing, she was putting pressure on herself not to let us–or herself–down. What can I say? She’s a girl. She’s an overachiever. She’s obsessive. She’s like her parents. It breaks my heart. She is so sweet.

So last night I told her, “Bunny went bye bye.”  (I may have actually used the word dead, because I was so tired I just didn’t care). I didn’t make a big deal about it though. I just said, “Fia wakes up when Fia wakes up.”

Here is where it gets extraordinary. She didn’t wake up ONCE last night. I mean, that hasn’t happened in weeks. She slept from 7:30-5:10. At that point I put her in the guest bed with me (can’t take her into our bed because Wayne is there snoring and spooning Phil. Yes, it’s ridiculous. Actually, Phil is spooning Wayne. Even more ridiculous).

I felt like a new woman today. Fia felt like a new tot. We were both so well rested. I pray my theory holds tonight and subsequent nights. But bottom line for anyone struggling with this is to ponder if anything has changed in your routine, etc. when the sleep regresses. Bunny was right in front of me and I didn’t realize it until it became an obsession for Fi (ie: waking up constantly).

I hope I never have to type a sentence with “Bunny” in it again. Seriously.