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.

Realisation

It's funny, when I see the girls I've known since high school, I don't really feel like we're getting any older. When I think back to our high school days, I picture us looking the same way we do now. I know intellectually that it's not true, and I certainly know that when I look at a picture of us 15 years ago. But in a lot of ways, I don't feel any older than I was back then. It's strange to think I am now so much older than my older brother was back then, because I think I'd still be kind of cowed by the person he was then.

Today I was browsing someone's online photo album and I came across a picture of a mutual acquaintance, someone who I haven't seen since those olden, golden days. This acquaintance has two kids now, one of whom is probably similar in age to LM. (I still remember her getting all pissy with me because the guy she liked gave me a massage on the beach. He was a cutie too!) She looks so much older than I would have thought. She's still very attractive, and bright-eyed, but she looks like a mom. And then I remind myself, shit, I probably do too! How can that be? I still feel like such a child.