The Re-Ferberized Family

Last July, we Ferberized The Boy, with great success. Everyone was better rested and healthier. It was a good thing for the family.

Over the months, I'd let some of our good habits slide, mainly because things seemed to be going so well, but also, as a dear friend said to me yesterday, "life gets in the way." In the beginning I was very diligent about telling The Boy how much time we had to do an activity. (For instance, "it's fifteen minutes until bedtime" or "we have two more books until bedtime.") But I have slacked off in recent weeks. I had also forgotten how important those cues are to The Boy and to sleep training. It gives him expectations and prepared him for bedtime to arrive. If I'm not giving him the cues, bedtime can seem to come suddenly, when he's not ready.  My cues let him prepare himself.

Anyway, over the last few of weeks, The Boy has begun rejecting naps on the weekends (but not at school), and putting up quite a struggle at bedtime too. In our desperation to get him to sleep, The Working Dad and I had fallen into some of our old tricks and habits: forehead tickles until he dozed off, rocking to sleep, lulling him to sleep in the stroller, letting him watch TV to get drowsy. Most of these things are nice (I looooove rocking him and would rock an 18-year-old him if he'd let me).  But they are also sleep crutches, and the goal is to get him sleeping on his own without needing the forehead tickles.

I'm not entirely sure from where the recent sleep problems emanate. I am given to understand that toddlers reject sleep in an effort to assert control over their world, and that this sort of sleep struggle is not uncommon around the age of two. He's almost two, so that may be it.  I think, though, the problems are a combination of his natural rebellion as an almost-two-year-old and our having slack off on the routine.

Also at play is the potty. We've added potty time to our bedtime routine, which necessarily takes away time post-bath for reading, singing, and generally winding down.

Anyway, whatever the reasons for the sleep difficulties, the entire family seemed to be heading into sleep deprivation city again, and needed to change direction before it got more serious.

So this week, we reintroduced Dr. Ferber to our household.  We needed to re-assert and re-establish our routines.

Night 1.1, January 30, 2013
Just like last time, it took The Boy about an hour's worth of screaming and crying to settle down on Ferber Night 1.1. Also like last time, it was incredibly difficult to hear him scream and cry, but we remained calm and a united front. He cried out alternately for me and The Working Dad.  He would moan, "Noooooo."  It was just horrible.  But more difficult for him than me, I realize.

We checked on him at 3 minutes, five minutes, seven minutes, ten, twelve, and fifteen. He fell asleep before the next 15 minutes had passed. He woke up briefly about 45 minutes later, but settled down before three minutes (the first check interval) had passed. I waited around another 30 minutes to see if he would wake up again (writing the beginnings of this blog post, actually), but he stayed quiet. So I brushed my teeth, went to kiss The Working Dad (who was working late upstairs) goodnight, listened at The Boy's door (a screen door so we can actually look in and hear better) to check on him, and then went to bed. He woke up again at 12:49, but again fell silent again before the first check. He woke up for the morning at 5:06 a.m. (and Ferber says that if the kid is awake after four, the night is over). He was a cranky, cranky boy when he woke up and for the first hour. We think he was still mad at us from the night before.  By six, though, he was his cheerful, goofy self.

Night 2.1, January 31, 2013
I picked The Boy up early from school so we could go feed water fowl (ducks, coots, geese, scaups, and gulls) at the park. (The coots ate right from our hands!)

We got The Boy's dinner to him earlier than we have been doing, with the goal being that we would be starting our evening routine before 7 o'clock, leaving plenty of parent/child time, post-bath. Bedtime is 8:00 p.m. these days, so getting started before seven gives wiggle room for the potty time.  This night I was the ultimate in sleep-training clock-watcher. I told him how much time we had left for dinner, potty time, bath, and reading books. And as the time ticked away on each activity, I would remind him of the reduced amount of time. ("Five more minutes of bath."  "Only three minutes until bedtime, time for one more book.")

We could not have had a nicer evening.  It was an absolute pleasure reading books as he would bring them to me.  (He gets to choose from a stack.)  Each time we would finish a book, I would tell him how much time we had left until bedtime.  It was so peaceful.

When bedtime came he fussed ever so briefly and then went to bed without at tear or a scream. Miraculous after the screamapalooza the night before . . . .

What's more, dinner, potty and bath were also easier. We've also been having recent battles about dinner and moving from the potty (which he would sit on all night, I'm convinced) to the bathtub.  But tonight, with me telling him how long he had for each activity, he very willingly moved from one activity to the next when I told him time was up.

Just as I had suspected, what was needed was for The Working Dad and I to reassert our authority.  The Boy needs for us to be in charge. He's more content and secure when he knows Mom and Dad are in control of the situation. One day, that won't be true, of course, but for now, for this toddler, it's the only way to be. It is clear to me that my boy benefits from and is happier with a clear, predictable structure. (It should come as no surprise to me that he's this way because his mom also succeeds with a bit of imposed order.)

So I'm calling the thing, after only two nights, a success. (At least until the weekend, when we shall see how the naps go.) We are a Re-Ferberized Family. And it is our family that is Ferberized, not just The Boy. All three of us have to observe the structure and schedule, or it all falls apart. It's sleep-training the child, sure, but what it really is is a commitment by the parents to create a stable, predictable world for their little guy during a time when so much changes for him so fast. And for The Boy, Dr. Ferber's method works to provide that structure.

Nighty-night, y'all.

Sewing: Book Pocket For Glider

Until recently, we would sit on the floor to read to The Boy, this being his preference. But recently, he's decided he wants to sit in the glider and rock while we read. The benefit of being on the floor is that you would have a stack of books in easy reach. Not so when you're in the glider....

So today, I repurposed the dust ruffle from his Classic Pooh crib set into a book pocket. I just took one of the long side ruffles, folded it in half, sewed around three sides and affixed some ribbons to tie it to the chair. Looks great, works great and now the dust ruffle has a new life. Since this one turned out so well, I'm going to make another one for the other side of the chair. (We can go through a lot of books of a night.)

Breast is best.

Last night on The New Normal, Brian and David became concerned that, as two dudes, neither of them would be able to breast feed their soon-to-be-born-via-surrogate baby boy. The resolution was obvious: ask the surrogate if she would be willing to pump breast milk after the baby is born. And they did, and she readily agreed.

But Brian, observing a breast-feeding mother and friend, longed for the special bond that comes from physically holding child to breast.

He got himself a Mr. Milker (on the show, they called it "The Milkman"), and comedy (including a breast feeding flash mob) ensued.

I've mentioned before on this blog my difficulties breast feeding, and the massive guilt that was imposed upon me by the breast feeding establishment and my own desire to be the best mommy I could be (which at the time included producing tidal waves of creamy goodness from my boobies to nourish my child).

My son rejected both breast and expressed breast milk at age six months. He had been fed a diet of formula supplemented by my trickle of breast milk for all of his life up to that point. (And yes, I tried all manner of things to stimulate production to no avail.)

When he was first born, the milk that I produced was not plentiful, but it was sweet and contained obviously large amounts of milk fat. Yes, I tasted it. When he rejected me (and to be sure, it felt a tiny bit personal), I tasted it again. It was more watery, and it has a faint tinny flavor. Then I knew that he knew best: this stuff was not the best thing for him. Bring on the Enfamil.

Do I wish that I could have breast fed him longer and more effectively? Absolutely. Do I think my bond with my son is inferior to that of the bonds of mothers who breast feed successfully for the first year? Absolutely not. Parental bonds aren't forged by sheer physical closeness. It's a complex mix of physical, intellectual, and emotional interaction, as it is with all human relationships. Know how I know? Daddies love their babies just as much as mommies do, and most of them do not employ a Mr. Milker to seal the deal.

So breast feeding is nice. Good breast milk is also nice. But neither of them make you a beloved parent of a beloved child. For that you don't need boobs and working mammary glands, or a Mr. Milker. You just need time and a heart.

Daddy-Daughter Dances

When did these things get kicked up in our culture? I don't remember daddy-daughter dances when I was growing up in 1970s rural East Texas. Are they new, or just new to me?

Part of me, if I'm honest, is a little weirded out by them, but I guess it's no different than dancing with your daughter on her wedding day. Part of me thinks it's cute too, though: dads sort of awkward in suits and little girls in frills. (Then another part of me wonders what the girls with no daddy do....)

And maybe, as the mother of a man cub, I'm a just little bit jealous.

Do they have Mommy-Son Flag Football or something?

What Not To Say To A Working Mom

Read this article by Devon Corneal.  All I can say is, "Amen, sister."  I really have nothing to add.

Hat tip to The Dude's Mom for sending me this article.  :-)

Food Journals

Remember how I said I hate New Years Resolutions?

I also hate food journals or diaries. They make me feel confined.

Yeah, I know, they're supposed to do that: impose a little structure on your health chaos. But that doesn't mean I can't not like it.

But I know that they work. They make me account for my own gastronomic sins.

(And these toenails aren't painting themselves. I need my 10 pound weight loss pedicure.)

And so I find myself turning to the dreaded food journal in order to help me attack the dreaded New Years Eve Eve Resolution. After three weeks of not doing so well without much structure (still only down 2.5 pounds), I have broken down and will do a food journal .... Starting tomorrow. Maybe seeing it written down will force me into giving up my one true drug: sugar.

And I'm serious about calling sugar a drug. I'll get real cravings and an instant serotonin rush when I finally have some. I guess it's better than being addicted to cocaine (but not for my waistline). Anyway, I need to break the sugar habit in a serious, serious way.

Because I'm doing okay on every other of my health goals...exercising more, eating more veggies, generally sleeping better....but the sugar's hard to shake. Hopefully, the journal will help.

Weekly Chores for The Working Mom

I'm sure you're familiar with Pinterest....

Every so often, I'll see pins from my buddies of a weekly chore list. Basically, it's a list of items that Mom should do each day to keep the house sparkling, and the list is always "so doable."

This week, one of my friends posted such a list for, get this, "The Working Mom."

!

My own list of chores!

Here's what I need to do every day to have a sparkling house, and this is "sooo doable."

Everyday before work:

Make beds

Empty dishwasher

Put in one load of laundry

This is an hour's worth of stuff, honestly. (Maybe I should institute an auto-sort laundry system as has been suggested on certain Pinterest pins. Do I trust The Working Dad to correctly sort?)

Anyway, I already get up before 6 a.m. to exercise (or I'm supposed to). Should I make that five in order to fit in these daily chores?

Then there are once a week, presumably, after work chores....

Monday: clean bathrooms

Tuesday: dust

Wednesday: vacuum

Thursday: mop floors

Friday: free!

Saturday: swing day

Sunday: free!

Seriously? I get home by 6 each evening. I need to feed The Boy, do potty time, bathe him, brush his teeth, do book time, and then put him to bed. (While The Working Dad gets dinner started and does whatever odds and end around the house that need attending to on whatever given day while I'm getting The Boy ready for bed....)

Ta-da! And just like that, it's 8 o'clock at our house. Time for The Working Dad and I to cook our own meal (if he's not already done it), eat, visit for a few minutes and then go to bed. Should I dump the chatting with my husband part to do these chores? What if we just order in every night so we skip the cooking part. That's healthy. Anyway, any real cleaning or dusting or vacuuming of the house beyond a lick and a promise is going to take another hour of time, at least. Even a lick and a promise may take an hour or so.

And footnote: I've been working all freaking day, it's 8 p.m., and I'd like a glass of wine and a little relaxation time.  Sure, there are two "free" days there, so I suppose you get to relax two evenings a week, but that's about five too few for me.  This schedule would have me going until 9 p.m.

So in addition to your eight hour work day, you, working lady, have two hours of house cleaning to do before you get to put your feet up.

But wait!  There's more!  There are swing day chores!

Swing Days:

First week - clean oven, microwave and fridge

Second week - wipe down walls baseboards and doors

Third week - clean inside windows and blinds

Fourth week - wipe down cabinets

Swing day, Saturday, the one day of the week The Working Mom has with no commitments, free time to spend with the family.  No, the cleaning calendar has your day filled with big projects and "catch up."

Fundamentally, the whole concept of the working mom's cleaning schedule rubs me the wrong way. Dad doesn't have to pitch in? The creator of the working mom's chore schedule says that her husband "is a manager" and works 60 to 70 hours a week, "enough said." No, it isn't enough said! He makes half the mess, he eats the food she no doubt cooks, he can pick up a broom at 8 p.m. as easily as she can. And what about working women who have "big important jobs," just like boys do. I've got a female friend who easily makes twice what her husband makes. I suppose that means she doesn't have to wash a dish since she works longer hours and makes more money. Guess what really happens at that house.....

Heck, if the morning and evening chores were divided between mom and dad, it's just 30 minutes a piece, in theory. Instead of mom slaving away while dad watches the news and unwinds after a hard day at his important job, maybe they both do a little cleaning and then hang with each other too.

Moreover, if the kids are old enough to swish a toilet bowl, where are their chores on this list?

And, by the way, where's the time for exercise in this schedule, or an avocation like playing a musical instrument or writing a blog or both? Where's fun?

Obviously, this schedule works for its creator, but to me, I see utter slavery to the family. I see a ready-maid (pun intended) basis for martyrdom on the part of the creator too.

But, I suppose, there is a grain of usefulness in the calendar. If you are not fortunate enough to be able to afford a cleaning service, having a plan of how to get the chores done is a good idea, for both working parents and the kids (if they're old enough).  Study after study shows that working women, on average, still carry a disproportionate amount of the household duties, even though they are bringing home half or more than half of the income for the family. We work just as hard as dad does at work. He should pitch in at home. If there's going to be a chore calendar, the calendar should have his assignments too. If dad doesn't want to help mom out, when, arguable she's helping him out by carrying part of the family economic burden, then that's a problem with dad.