Archive | September 2013

Let Sleeping Babies Lie (no matter how uncomfortable they look)

When it comes to Team Pickles, babies, and sleep, our luck has been pretty even.

Molly asleep

Molly asleep in her crib (in a manner of speaking). Caption reads: “Let Sleeping Babies Lie no matter how uncomfortable they may look!”

Actually, when it comes to EVERYTHING, our luck is pretty even. My friend Catherine once said of Ian and I that we have the most luck of anyone she’s ever met. The problem is that on any given day we have no idea if it’s going to be GOOD luck or BAD luck. One day we’re winning a top-of-the-line trampoline because of a tongue-in-cheek Facebook post and the next we’re burning down our apartment 6 days after our wedding (true story – I’ll post about that some other time).

But I digress.

Ben was an easy sleeper pretty much from day one. Like any newborn, he woke in the night to eat, but by about 4 months he was easily sleeping through. To make things even simpler, he would sleep anywhere and everywhere – in the car…in the stroller…in his highchair…in the middle of the floor if that was where he happened to be when he got tired, and he slept so soundly that I used to clip his nails while he napped.

Sleeping Ben collage

Case(s) in Point: 3 of the many “Ben sleeping in random positions” pictures

When he was a toddler, his afternoon routine was lunch followed by a bottle in his highchair, after which he would immediately fall asleep and I would recline the highchair, turn off the kitchen light, and go down to the basement to work for a few hours while he napped.

Bedtime was just as easy – if we were the slightest bit late starting his bedtime routine, Ben would bring us a bottle, grab our hands and beg, “Bed? Bed now?”

Molly, on the other hand…Oh, my Molly-Monkey…Baby Molly was the complete polar opposite. Molly woke up frequently to feed, and the frequency increased rather than decreased with age. As a newborn, Molly would only sleep in her swing or in Ian or my arms. For her first three months, I slept on the futon in her room with her swaddled in the swing beside me. Every morning I would carry the swing downstairs to the family room so she could nap in it there, and then Ian would carry it back upstairs for the night. I perfected the art of transferring her seamlessly from my arms into the swing while it was rocking (the trick is to start rocking your arms to match the motion of the swing before you put her down, then slide your arms out from under). She slept fitfully, waking up at the slightest noise or change in atmosphere. The sounds of a sneeze used to send her into orbit.

If at this point you’re thinking something like, “OMG I wonder if she knows that babies aren’t supposed to sleep in swings I’d better comment and tell her that it’s not recommended,” please rest assured that I’ve had that same conversation with many a Public Health nurse and that I’m quite comfortable with the decisions I made.

Around 3 months, Molly (my future Olympic gymnast) discovered that she could, while tightly swaddled, somehow flip herself over onto her stomach and wriggle backwards out of the swing. The first time I heard a “thud” and found her on the floor in front of the empty swing grinning, I thought it was a fluke, but by the third I had to concede that the days of her sleeping safely in the swing were over.

Molly escaping from swing

Photographic evidence of swaddled 3-month-old Molly deliberately wriggling out of the swing

She transitioned (unhappily) to the crib at night, waking about every half-hour to hour, and during the day would nap for a half-hour to an hour at a time, but only in my arms. My work productivity suffered significantly, but on the flip side I got really, really good at online euchre.

Molly asleep 1

One of the very few known photographs of baby Molly asleep

Finally we hit a breaking point around 7 months, which, probably not coincidentally, is also when my PPD starting hitting pretty hard. Molly wouldn’t sleep for more than 45 minutes at a time and had no predictable sleep schedule. I was a zombie and Ian wasn’t much better.

Completely at the end of my rope, I did what I always do in these situations, and I went to Chapters, sat on the floor in the “Parenting” section, and flipped through books until I found one I liked. The book I selected was Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child, by Dr. Marc Weissbluth. As with most, if not all parenting books, this one has its supporters and its detractors, so all I can say is that without hyperbole, this book literally saved, if not my life, at least my sanity, marriage, and relationship with my children.

Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child
(cover image from amazon.ca)

What I really like about the book (which we took to calling “The Book” – bolded and capitalized) was that Dr. Weissbluth does not offer a one-size-fits-all solution; instead he describes different infant temperaments and sleep problem and offers suggestions tailored to your needs.

Babies like Molly are described as suffering from extreme fussiness/colic. He notes that it he adds the “extreme fussiness” designation because not all of these babies experience the level of crying that would be deemed “colic”, but instead experience “an unsettled, agitated, wakeful state that would lead to crying if ignored by parents.” (p 142). This certainly described Molly as an infant!

Dr. Weissbluth’s overall theory is that most children are not getting as much sleep as they need, and the more overtired they get, the more difficulty they have falling asleep, compounding the issue by building an ever-increasing sleep debt.

For all infants (and really, all children) he recommends watching for “drowsy signs” (such as decreased activity, slower motions, quieter, calmer, yawning) to determine the optimal time to put them to bed. Actions such as fussing, rubbing eyes, and being irritable or cranky actually indicate overtiredness; if the infant is showing those signs, she is already overtired and will have more difficulty falling asleep.

For sleep-training a fussy/high-needs/colicky infant like Molly, he recommends the admittedly controversial “cry-it-out” method – putting her down in her crib when drowsy and then leaving her alone to fall asleep. “Cry-it-out” is not for everyone, but I was willing to give it a shot, since responding when she cried was clearly not the answer.

Dr. Weissbluth also makes a point that resonates with me given my educational background in psychology and behaviour management: The only thing that graduated crying methods such as Ferber’s (in which leave the infant for longer and longer periods of time before responding) teach the baby is that they have to continue crying for longer each night to get a response. You still eventually reach the point where you have to let your baby cry-it-out indefinitely; all you have done is prolonged the agony for both of you.

So Cry-It-Out it would be: We picked the night, and for the first time in her 7 months, I put Molly down at the first “drowsy signs,” much earlier than usual, still awake but calm, and left the room. She cried, and I cried, but I didn’t go back in, and 17 minutes later she fell asleep and slept through the night for the first time EVER.

The next morning she woke up in a fantastic mood, and bolstered by this initial success I put her down for three Dr. Weissbluth-recommended naps – a morning nap, an afternoon nap, and an early evening nap – the next day, and I’ll be damned if she didn’t fall asleep instantly and sleep for 2 hours each time.

Seventeen minutes, I tell you. Seventeen Dr. Weissbluth-approved minutes, and I had a different baby on my hands.

Molly remains a difficult sleeper, which will probably never change. Our paediatrician points at poor sleepers (*ahem* myself included) on both sides of the family and says we may have lucked out with Ben but we were pretty much guaranteed at least one terrible sleeper.

Any change to the routine derails her sleep habits. Travel is a nightmare – we can basically count on her being awake until after we fall asleep and eventually collapsing out of sheer exhaustion. When we went to Germany last year Ian and I took turns – every night one of us stayed with Molly while the other ate dinner with the grown-ups. If one of us didn’t stay upstairs with her, she would scream for hours, waking up Ben and her cousins.

After that 2 week trip it was another 6 weeks before we could get her to go to sleep without one of us sitting with her and at least another 6 weeks after that until things were completely back to “normal” – please clearly visualize those as mimed air-quotes, because Molly’s “normal” is anything but.

“Normal” sleep for Molly goes in cycles. She will go for a couple of months with no problems, then wake up crying one night, and if we go in to soothe her, she’ll wake up twice the next night…then 3 times…then 5….until we do a night or two of crying-it-out to “reset” her back to…again that funny little air-quoted word “normal.” But at least that normal is a far cry (so to speak) from what we experienced in her first year, and for that I am immeasurably thankful.

Of course, it can’t last, can it?

~ karyn

Guest Post: Kindness Heroes Help The Earth, by Ben Pickles

Today I have invited a guest poster, Ben Pickles (age 6), to share some of his thoughts with you.

Ben is 6 years old. Last year at school he was in Montessori. This year he is going into Grade 1 in French Immersion and he has started riding the school bus! He is excited to use his new Angry Birds pencil case and Angry Birds pens from his Aunt Yen Yen. Ben has guest-posted before on PicklesINK and also on Raising Wild Things. He is the author of Your Brio Peak Story Collection. One of Ben’s favourite books and movies is The Lorax, and Ben likes to help the environment just like the Lorax does. In the future Ben plans to be a premier of a province called Benville. Benville will be environmentally friendly, with wind turbines and solar panels to make electricity so we do not have to burn coal and oil and gas that makes air pollution.

Litter 3w

Ben and Molly with their full litter bag. Caption Reads: Kindness Heroes Help The Earth, Guest Post by Ben

Litter is garbage that people throw on the ground instead of throwing it out or recycling it. When I see litter, I feel like I should pick it up. I think that sometimes people throw things out of their cars because the cars will just run over them.

A little while ago, mommy, Molly and I were walking to the mailbox and the library. I saw some litter on the ground and I wanted to pick it up and carry it to a garbage. Mommy had two bags – one was a throw-outable bag and one wasn’t, so we put her letters in the other bag and used the throw-outable one to carry the litter so we could just throw out the bag with the litter when we got to the library.

Litter 2w

Photo of Ben and Molly picking up litter on the side of the road

On the rest of the walk downtown, we saw some more litter so we decided to pick up all the litter that we saw. Molly and I worked as a team – I held the bag and I showed Molly the litter and Molly picked it up and put it in the bag because I didn’t like the stinky smells.

Molly thought the litter was called “glitter” and every time she saw it she said, “Glitter! Glitter! More glitter!”

When we got downtown the bag was full of litter and we put it in the garbage at the library. We decided that every time we go on a walk we will bring a bag to pick up litter.

Litter 1w

Ben and Molly carrying their litter bag together

The thing that people litter most is cigarettes. I have seen that there are garbages for them, but people just litter them, and they have already done something that is not good for the environment – polluted the air with smoke. I wish I could pick up the cigarettes but they are too germy. I wish people who smoke cigarettes would put them into garbages instead of littering.

I like picking up litter, but I still wish that there wasn’t so much litter because litter pollutes the Earth. I wish that people would hold onto their garbage until they find a garbage or a recycling box to put it in because that would be nicer to the environment.

I would like to ask everyone who reads this blog post to pick up one piece of litter today and put it in the garbage (or if you find a box or can or anything that needs to be recycled find a recycling bin). Remember the 3 R’s – Reduce, Reuse, Recycle!

Like it says in How to Help the Earth – by the Lorax:

If we work together,

the earth will get better.

The land will be cleaner.

The soil will be wetter.

The sun will shine brighter.

The trees will be greener.

The sky will be bluer.

The air will be cleaner.

 

 ~ Ben Pickles

Show Ben some Comment Love here!!

From Sulks and Sadness to Sushi and Smiles: Ben and Molly’s First Day of School

Today was the big day – back to school for Ben and Molly!

Back to school collage

Photo Collage: Ben on porch with Molly in background, Daddy and Ben hugs, and Molly at sushi. Caption reads “From Sulks + Sadness to Sushi + Smiles – Team Pickles is Back to School”

This summer has *figuratively* flown by. As anyone who knows me can attest, I was never cut out to be a full-time stay-at-home mom. The work-at-home/half-time school balance that I have going on with Ben and Molly works perfectly for me. Summers can throw that routine off but this summer was a really good one; we crammed in lots of fun activities but also kept up a fairly workable routine of daycamp and me trying desperately to get all my work done while also rehearsing and performing two plays (but more on that in another post).

As you may have noticed (or, you know, actually more likely not because you were also off enjoying your fantastic summers that also figuratively flew by!) I haven’t posted very much this summer, so you can look forward to some summer recap and catch-up posts over the next couple of weeks!

As I mentioned a few posts ago, Ben has a big transition this year, leaving his beloved Montessori school for Grade One French Immersion, all day, every day, and with a school bus ride to boot. Molly also has changes in store, moving up to the Casa classroom and going from four mornings a week to five. There are a few other kids at the school that Ben knows from Montessori and other places, but none in his class and none that he knows very well.

My anxiety around Ben’s new school has been through the roof – most likely because I’ve been projecting my own less than blissful elementary school experience onto him. It’s not that I have particularly horrible memories but I also don’t have particularly happy shiny ones. Mostly I remember a lot of being bored and not having any really close friends (I did have a camp best friend but she lived 4 hours away so we couldn’t do much in the way of playdates).

I vividly remember my dad bringing me to visit my senior kindergarten classroom before the beginning of the school year and forever alienating the teacher, Mrs. Lambursky, by scanning the classroom and then asking in a disgusted tone, “But where’s the Science Table???” My parents tried to make it up to her at Christmas with a lovely gift of sheep-themed oven mitts (lamb –> Lambursky –> get it? See, I come by it honestly) but it didn’t seem to do the trick.

The grade two memory that stands out most is two of us being sent to the principal’s office and interrogated and accused of stealing our seatmate’s fruit roll-up, which she later found buried in her desk. There was never any apology and the injustice still stings.

I had a love/hate relationship with grade three. One the one hand, my teacher, Miss Methven, was wonderful and kept a stash of small prizes in her desk that we could earn through academic achievement and good behaviour. One the other hand, whenever she left the room, a girl named Jerky McJerkhead* would stand on a chair and lead a popularity contest (of a sort): “Put up your hand if you hate Karyn! Everyone who hates Karyn, put up your hand!!” Not just me, of course. That would have been cruel. She had a list of favourite targets and worked her way through in rotation.

Grade four was great, in large part because I went to a new school – so I have to admit, there is something to be said for a change of scene! Twenty-four of us unsuspecting 9 year-olds were bused away to form a full-time gifted classroom across town (6 girls and 18 boys, which has always raised questions for me about gender-bias either in the gifted testing itself or parents’ decision-making around the school change). We had an amazing teacher, Mr. Keay, and were a very close-knit class. I bonded with a girl named Nicole over our mutual love of card games and we played Crazy 8’s constantly…on the bus, on the playground, in our desks until Mr. Keay figured it out and moved us across the room from each other (le sigh).

Grade 4 class karyn

My grade 4 class picture. Can you pick me out?

After that was yet another transition, this time to the all-girls school I attended until graduation and where over time I made many very close friends and had…well…good and bad experiences, endeared myself to some staff members and alienated others, received a fine education that was probably worth every penny, and learned the most effective ways to make your kilt seem long enough and your shirt appear to be tucked in when neither actually is.

Like I said…the majority of my anxiety about Ben’s first day is wrapped up in my own experience, so I’ve been working reeeeeallly hard to keep it from impacting him.

Ben has been really excited about his new school, especially after we visited in the spring, met the principal, and had a tour. He confessed to me a few days ago, “Mommy, I’m excited about my new school, but I’m also a little nervous about meeting all those new people. Sometimes when I do something like that I get a little…shy.” I did the only thing a reasonable parent could do of course and cancelled his registration and vowed to homeschool him through to his graduate degree pulled myself together and assured him that everyone feels like that and lots of his new friends will be feeling shy too, even the ones who have been at that school who are going to a new classroom with a new teacher.

Of course, before setting foot in his new classroom, he still needed to be outfitted with school supplies. After The Conversation about backpacks, peer pressure, and bullying, Ben gave the backpack question a lot of consideration. We looked at all of his options online and in stores and in the end he went with:

School supplies

Ben’s new Thomas backpack (with suitcase wheels!) and school supplies

Thomas, of course! Let it never be said that Ben is boy who doesn’t know what he wants.

He had also considered Dr. Seuss as a backpack option but we weren’t able to find it, so I offered to make him a marker roll out of Dr. Seuss fabric (let me know if you’re interested and I will post a tutorial about that). I asked him if he would like a different fabric inside where it wouldn’t show as much and he inspected my fabrics carefully and said, “Princesses. Because I like princesses, and it’s now or never.”

Fabric

Ben’s fabric choices for his marker roll: Dr. Seuss on the outside, princesses on the inside.

Ian, also the veteran of many childhood moves and therefore many school transitions, planned the ultimate back-to-school day for everyone: He took the day off work, bought back-to-school gifts for the kids, booked me a pedicure (and himself a bucket of balls at the driving range), and told Ben that dinner was his choice (“PIZZA!!!!”).

The morning drop-offs started with Molly to Montessori, grumpy, but quick to cheer up when she saw her friends.

Molly and Jade

Molly and her friend Jade ham it up for the camera

Next up was Ben to his new school, where the principal made his day by recognizing him: “It’s Ben Pickles!!” but unfortunately then he was thrown off when he learned that we were supposed to drop him off outside instead of at his classroom door like he had imagined. Honestly, I’m surprised he held it together as long as he did and had expected that something would cause his calm veneer to crumble.

Daddy hugs

Sad cuddles with daddy

Daddy cuddles helped a lot but in the end it was his principal’s offer to let us go in with him that did the trick. Once we brought him in, he changed into his indoor shoes and then with a nervous smile and wave was ready to start his new life as a primary school student.

On porch

Grinning Ben on the porch ready to go with grumpy Molly in the background

After that, Ian dropped me off for 90 minutes of bliss at the spa while he hit some balls and then we headed back for Molly’s pick up time. Although the only thing she would say in response to questions about what she did was a cheerful, “I don’t know!” we gathered that she had had a good morning. Over a sushi lunch and manicures she opened up a little more, telling me that they had sung songs about “butts” that went “Poop. Poop poop poop poop.” I may have to organize a parent-teacher interview…

Sushi lunch

Molly enjoying a bowl of miso soup

Finally, the moment of truth: We returned to Ben’s school for the pick-up. We hardly recognized the cheerful, confident 6 year-old who marched out the door bursting with stories about his day. The highlights, it seems, were the special “teacher introducement” in the gym and the fact that the playground possesses not one but TWO particularly slippery fireman’s poles.

Into every life, though, a little rain must fall, and there was one sour note – When Ian asked if anyone said anything about his Thomas backpack, Ben’s response was an utterly indignant, “They took NO interest AT ALL!”

Oh well. C’est la vie.

~ karyn

*Names have been changed.