Oh, Ferber!

Oh! the Ferber method. I've been months trying the James Thurber method on the kid. His sleeping is terrible, but the daydreams are out of this world.

We hadn’t really planned on employing any of the “cry it out” strategies to get Walter to sleep.  Despite so many blasé, confident endorsements from friends, it just seemed a bit…cruel.  His clear sense of object permanence was no comfort – rather than leaving an amnesiac alone in a dark, barren world, we could now burden him with the memory of his abandonment as well. Besides, all the literature recommending the approach was very careful to leave those loopholes:  Not right for every family. Do what seems best for your baby.  Weren’t they obviously speaking to us? Who better than the Edison-Albrights to thread that needle?  Even if it took years of sleepless nights, rocking and singing and re-rocking and re-singing, we would be that loophole family!

We took another look at the Ferber method a couple weeks ago when the pediatrician suggested it was time we helped Walter learn to put himself to sleep. We’d never considered it that way before. Walter was (obviously, blatantly, assuredly) not born knowing how to do that, and teaching him was our job. “In the process,” Doc added, “he’ll be building skills to cope with stress.”

In retrospect, if we hadn’t been so sick and tired, we might not have bought that rationale, essentially “it’ll build character.”  That ranks right up there with “it’ll put hair on his chest.” (For the record, he’s already quite a character, and I can pretty much guarantee the hairy chest is only a matter of time.) He seemed ready, though: one of his recent developments was asking to be put in his crib when we’d rocked him longer than he wanted.  It felt like time to give it a try.

Plenty of character

So, the first night we followed his usual bedtime routine – tub, toiletries,  teat, uhm, too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral (that’s an Irish lullaby) – but stopped short of (t)rocking him to sleep. We laid him in his crib, covered him up with his blanket, wished him good night, covered him up with his blanket, gave him a kiss, covered him up with his blanket and left, closing the door behind him. “This is a fun game!” he called after us. Once he got the idea, though, things proceeded pretty quickly. The crying was… persuasive, but we stuck to the plan – gradually increasing periods of him alone in his crib, punctuated by short visits from us for comfort and reassurance.  I’m intellectually comfortable with the idea that crying, as his only means of voicing an objection, can sometimes give a false sense of urgency, but it really helped that he did a lot of happy talking to himself in between. He never went more than about 10 minutes without us, never crying for more than 5 at a time, and he was asleep, on his own, within half an hour. What’s more, he slept through the night, waking once at sunrise to nurse. All told, he did less crying and more sleeping that night of our callous, self-interested neglect than almost any night we’d spent rocking and shushing and cajoling. The nights that followed were just as successful, with even less intervention from us.

Week one seemed to be a rousing success sleeper hit. Obviously, we decided to take the show on the road. The first night of our road trip vacation, at Umma and Baba’s, we all slept in the same room and it was catastrophic. Up every two hours, wailing. “I can see you! You’re right there! Rock me, Amadeus!” Back to our old routine.  Eventually Annie had to decamp to the living room and I had to hide behind the bed until dawn. The rest of the trip, we made sure he had some privacy, either his own room or Annie’s cleverly erected partition, and all was well in slumberland.

That was what cemented it for me.  After all, what’s more natural than a kid’s parents cramping his style?

"Now I am a certified sleep expert."

This was one of those really tough parenting decisions.  The stakes seem so high, the arguments for both sides are so compelling, and the repercussions are completely unpredictable.  We made the right call this time; Walter’s instant success really convinced me.  But it was the right decision for our baby, and our family, and we made it together.  Your mileage may vary.

He climbs!

Today, Walter learned how to climb stairs.  Seriously.

The video is a little dim, but you get the idea. 

My favorite part is where he sticks his little head out through the rails ... ohhhhh boy.  We definitely have to get that fixed, and soon!

Tonight Walter also cheerfully opened his mouth and took his Ibuprofen (I may have been a little premature in declaring tooth #8 trauma-free.)  We tried brushing his teeth for the first time and he was incredibly into it ... opening his mouth up wide, letting me brush his tops and bottoms ... he liked it!  He also put himself to sleep without crying for the first time.  

Our little boy is growing up!  And climbing.  But that's OK.  I'm going to call the carpenter tomorrow. =) 

Walter Walk Watch

Evidently Walter took a couple steps at day care on Friday! No steps at home, yet, but he seems pretty close to either taking off like a rocket or falling spectacularly and deciding to crawl from now on.  Hank has taken to very gently knocking Walter down when it looks like he's going to try walking.  Hank probably has the right idea, safety-wise, but I'm pretty excited to see this next developmental step! (And all the steps that follow!)

In other news, tooth #8 has emerged. We've had a couple nights of crankiness/extra wake up, but not nearly the drama and trauma we experienced with tooth #7.  But there's still a lot of gum to get through.  You can do it, Walter!

A Hank Tail

We've been Ferberizing the baby (Sean is working on a post on the subject) and that means more crying from Walt and more consternation from Hank.  He worries about that baby.  When Walter cries, he comes to us and gives us a very clear "What are you DOING? Go comfort my baby!" kind of look.  Sometimes he goes to Walt's door and tries to get in and do it himself.

Tonight, I nursed Walt in his darkened room and could barely make out a dark, vaguely canine shape push the door open and come in.  The dark shape walked over to the crib, flattened itself in an impressively feline-like way, and gradually disappeared under the crib until only a wagging tail was visible and then, with a swish, also gone.  I called out to Sean to get him to come in and see it (or rather, not see it) for himself, but that alerted the puppy and he reappeared, leaving the room as quickly and quietly as he came.

I'm not sure exactly what he's planning, but I'm pretty sure it's not compatible with the Ferber method.  Sorry, Hank.

Two more ...

... things I love about Walter.  Not teeth.  Just the one new one, so far.  One new tooth and so, so much pain.  And coughing.  And waking up sad.  And general sadness.

But!  Umma and Baba are here, so everything is better already.

1. Walter loves the garage door.  When it opens and closes he watches intently, happy shimmying away.  He especially likes to watch it close from inside the garage, watching the door and the motor and the chains, figuring out how it all works.

2. Walter has a favorite toy.  It's a fishing pole from a really awesome bathtime set that was a gift from the B. family.  He swings it around, hooks onto various things (Hank's crate, the baby gate, Daddy's toes, etc.) and crawls around with it in his hand.

Behold:

Emerging Teethers Institute

Tooth #7 emerged today, preceded by four straight nights of almost no sleep and almost constant misery.  Sir Crankington Pants of the Stevens Point Cranky Pantses is asleep now ... sort of ... we'll see for how long ... and I want to take a minute to record some of his recent endearing traits to keep my spirits up through the long night ahead.

He plays a game where he grabs a toy, turns around, offers it to you, and keeps offering it to you until you kiss it, pretend to eat it, or try to take it from his hand (sometimes he takes it back when you try to take it, but sometimes he gives it to you ... you have to pay attention to the cues.)  This game makes even a Cranky Pants Walter and his Sleepy Pants parents very happy.

He makes this new noise ... I'm not sure I can describe it.  It's like the noise we used to make as kids when we pretended to be Indians ... the one where you say "oh" and then cover and uncover your mouth with your hand?  Like that, except not all stereotypey.  He covers and uncovers his moth with his hand or our shoulder or whatever's handy, going "bahbahbahbahbah"  We'll have to get video of it.

He is so, so handsome.  I think when he grows up he's going to look like the actor who plays Peeta in The Hunger Games.  I had a hard time finding a picture of him in Peeta make up and hair AND smiling, other than this one from a pretty funny wiki with lots of baking-related puns:

Heh. Hunger Games humor.  Also, you can see it, right?

Total heartthrob.

His favorite solid food right now, by far, is artichoke heart.  Loves it.

He's a brilliant conversationalist and a truly excellent dancer.

And he's still asleep.  Time for Mama to grab some shut-eye while she can.

Adventures with Walter, Month 8

Tomorrow, Walter will be 9 months old.  We don't have as many photos of month 8 as we do of previous months, and most of them are cell phone photos rather than real camera photos. Many of them are a little blurry. There's a good reason for that: we are having a tremendous amount of fun.

I think 8 months is my favorite Walter age so far.  Yes, he's kind of a dickens.  He uses every ounce of his increasingly daunting strength to resist diaper changes, which is no fun for anyone.  But he's also genuinely enjoyable company, game for adventures, taking in and taking on the world with a "ba-BAH! Ba-BAAAAAAAAH!"

We go to fairs and festivals and markets and stores.  We go out to eat in restaurants.  We can be fairly spontaneous.  It's amazing.

Here's a list of just some of the foods Walter has eaten and enjoyed this month:

Scrambled eggs
Kix

Tortilla
Pasta salad
Peas
Rice (white, brown, fried, Spanish)
Belgian waffle
Pancake
French toast
Breakfast sausage
Sweet potato fries
Pulled Pork (no sauce)
BBQ beans (saucy!)
Rotisserie chicken
Breadsticks
Turkey
Mashed potatoes
Stuffing
Mexican-style black beans
Amy's roasted vegetable vegan pizza (onions, mushrooms, artichokes, red pepper.)
Pretzels
Canned artichoke hearts
Corn dog
Hamburger

... and that's not even including the foods he's eaten at day care. Or the foods he's tried and not enjoyed (those are pretty much all in the fruit category.)  It's a whole new world of eating, people.  I'm a little surprised by the shortness of the strained food phase.  In Room 2, though, there's no baby food.  It's the same breakfast and lunch the big kids get, just cut up into baby-sized pieces.

Speaking of Room 2, here are my two favorite "Today I enjoyed ..." messages from his teachers so far, reproduced verbatim:

Today I enjoyed ... dancing to Chinese folk music and hiding under the colorful scarves.
Today I enjoyed ... chasing Chelsea around the table while roaring like a lion.

The second one was from Friday.  Sean said, "Yup! That's our boy."

At an Albright family gathering a few years ago, I watched as Matt and Kate caught each other's eyes over their kids' heads and cracked up ... a moment that struck me as distinctly, beautifully parental.  I think of that sometimes when I catch Sean's eye over Walter's head.  We've got a very funny little boy.

Sometimes Walter and I share jokes, too.  Like today, when we both took a break from nursing to eat some pretzels.

You had to be there, I think.

The highlight of the month was definitely our adventure in Red Wing, MN this week.  I talked myself into and and out of applying for the Emerging Leaders Institute about 100 times before I shared my worries with Sean, who said, "Just apply!  If you're accepted, we'll make it work.  It's Parker Palmer!" Indeed.  Making it work meant Sean had to use a pretty significant chunk of PTO, we had to unsettle Walter's routines (he's pretty game for adventure until bedtime rolls around, and then he says, "OK ... time to go home!") and Sean and Walter had to brave the ridiculous heat and find ways to fill their time while I was at the retreat.

Somehow, they managed.

I'll let Sean fill in stories from their time together when he's able to grab some computer time. But, to give you a glimpse, here's a video of Walter enjoying the mirror in our hotel room:

Some more things I want to remember about Walter at 8 months:

**His hair is reddish blonde, and very curly in the back. It's extra curly when he's sweaty, which is often these hot hot days.
**If someone says "Bye!" he says, "Bah!"
**He loves balls: chasing them, catching them, rolling them, watching other people throw them in the air and catch them.
**His ears lengthened out this week--they look more like Sean's, now.
**He's very interested in women.  We're trying not to read anything into that--his interest could be purely academic.  Or culinary.  Whatever it is, it's pretty funny to watch.
**On a somewhat related note, we have no idea whether Walt is left or right handed.  Lately, he seems to favor the right hand. But there was a long stretch of lefty-ness, too.

Bedtime for Pastor Mama.  As Walter would say, "Bah!"