Sleep Training: 5 ways to make it easier

6 weeks old

Every two to three weeks, my son's sleeping patterns change.  This was to be expected, so I didn't sweat it much.  After about 2 months, a general sleeping pattern emerged in which he slept from roughly 10:00 PM to 6:00 AM with about 3-4 hungry wake ups on average.  By the time he was 4 months, he was sleeping from 8:30 PM to 6:00 AM, sometimes through the night but sometimes with as many as 5 wake ups.  This was nice because it gave me a little time to work before I went to bed, and he took enough naps during the day that I could take a nap as well.  

At close to 6 months, however, a distressing change in his sleeping habits began to take shape.  He went from a nap every hour and a half or so (often very short) to 2-3 naps a day.  And he started going to sleep at night later and later.  He also started sleeping in later, so that wasn't bad at first.  

By his 7th month (today!), he got to a point where he took only 2 naps a day and sometimes didn't go down for the night until almost midnight.  This cut out all my pre-bedtime chore time, and I had to do as much as possible during his naps and while he was distracted by his toys.  Because he still wakes up a few times in the middle of the night, the later mornings aren't enough to make up for it.  The changes I'd been toying with in my head concerning my approach to his sleep routine were now too much to ignore.

Parenting books that mention sleep training say to put the baby down and comfort them every five minutes if they cry until they fall asleep.  I'd mentioned sleep training to my mom before, and she was always strongly against it.  I was worried about it not going well and the time or two that I tried it didn't go as planned.  Desperate for a reprieve, I decided to give it another shot.

When he woke up from his afternoon around 3:45 PM, I kept him up for the rest of day and too distracted to attempt the cat nap he's been wanting to take lately around 7:00 PM.  I waited until I knew he was very sleepy and would have a hard time fighting it as he usually does.   I tried giving him a bottle around 8:30 to get him in a bed time mood, but he didn't want it.  At 9:30 PM, he was still going strong, but I knew he was ready for bed.  I tried his bottle again, but he still didn't want it, so I sat with him in a quiet and dimly lit room for about 5 minutes.  Then I put him in his crib.

He was not thrilled about being put down, but he didn't cry so I left.  I turned the baby monitor on and gathered some crafty items to get ready to hunker down for the crying I just knew would ensue.  Then I waited.  Nothing.  A little whine here and there, but no crying.  After about 5 minutes, he got a little fussy but still no crying.  Then there was silence.  He was in bed before 10:00 PM and didn't require an hour's worth of holding and playing and soothing to sleep.

I have theory on why it worked so well this time when the one or two times prior ended up with me having to give up and pick him up until he decided to fall asleep.  This is what I did.

1) I didn't let him have any extraneous naps after 4:00 PM.

2) He was well-fed prior to falling asleep with a hearty dinner around 6:00 PM followed up by a generous serving of milk (he drank about 8 ounces) when he was ready for it.

3) At 8:00 PM, he had a bath (his first sitting up bath!).

4) Exercise:  After his bath, he played for about 15 minutes and actively rolled around in a generous play area.  When the 8:30 attempt at bed time failed, I let him have more activity time culminating in a 30 minute play session to his favorite Baby Faith video, which he prefers to Baby Einstein.

5) When we got serious about bed time, I took him to a quiet, dark room and snuggled with him for about 10 minutes to calm him down.

After that, he went out with minimal fuss.  I'm hoping for a repeat tonight.  With a little luck, I'll have good news about an encore performance tomorrow.

Our first solo road trip!

My son is 5.5 months old, and a prolific gurlger when he's upset.  During a tantrum, he let's all the saliva collect in the back of his throat and gurgles while he cries.  He does it so forcefully that he turns bright red and sometimes starts choking if he can't be made to stop.  Because of that, I've never gone on a drive longer than 45 minutes alone with him.  I prefer to sit in the back seat to keep him entertained and succored by his bottle when necessary.  Because I'm house sitting until the 23rd, I could no longer put off the mommy-baby road trip and we finally did it last Wednesday!

Orchestrating the preparations was a feat in and of itself.  Bringing everything a cloth diapered, bottle fed 5 month old needs for 10 days is no small task.  The gas tank was filled the day before, and some of our clothing was brought a few days ahead of time for an impromptu practice run with my mother.  The amount of bibs, blankets, towels, socks, and clothing he goes through between laundry days must calculated and packed.  All the bottles must be washed and packed with just the right amount prewarmed for the car ride and a couple of spares to go on while I was unpacking.  Laundry had to be timed just so in order for all the diapers to be washed and dry.  I admit it:  I used disposables to make this last bit happen.  No stinky diapers in the car!

Then the big day came, and it was a choreographed dance of loading the car during naps and arranging everything so that nothing dangerous for the baby or my car upholstery was in reach of his little hands but still keeping enough toys close enough that he'd have a nice assortment for the 1.5 hour drive.  All the essentials were placed in easy reach of the driver's seat and the departure was timed in the hopes he would fall asleep during the ride.

Well....he didn't fall asleep at all.  But he did, thankfully, quietly entertain himself for the first half of the ride with only minimal complaints that he didn't have a play mate and that he found his view less than interesting.  Meanwhile I was silently cursing the fact that you can't see your child in a rear facing car seat while driving and that keeping the seat in the middle like you're supposed to makes it hard to install any kind of usable mirror, and I vowed to myself to remedy this problem with some sort of wonderful, patentable invention that will make my son and I very rich one day.

Because he refused to nap, necessity, the catalyst by which genius is often born, demanded that I learn how to feed a baby in the backseat with one hand while driving, and must say that I can't wait until he can feed himself consistently in the car.  Then his primary source of entertainment, the play mat arch I had placed within his dangling reach, shifted against the car door.  At a stop light, I was able to shove it back toward him, but he didn't appreciate my efforts as much as I would have hoped.  He was not nearing point of gurgling yet, so I tried talking to him in the voices he likes and singing his favorite songs.  They didn't help.  I know that he somehow must be pacified without me stopping and holding him because the only way to make him stay in his car seat without a royal fit at that point will be to wait until he's sleeping.  And I refuse to capitulate like that.

In a last effort to prevent the gurgling-choking-face-flushing extravaganza, I rummage through my purse to find an Altoid container still in plastic wrap.  "Great," I think to myself, "He loves crinkly plastic sounds!"  For the remaining 20 or so minutes of the trip, I kept him entertained by rattling the tin and crunching the plastic.  At first, he even laughed every time it made a noise.  Even though he soon grew weary of it, he remained interested enough to refrain from going into a full blown tantrum.

Finally, we reached our destination.  He was hot, sweaty, and irate but gurgle and choke free.  Success!

In roughly a week, I get to do it all over again.....

Who's Training Who?

After 4 months of being his mother, I already know some things about my son that both thrill and terrify me.  I know he is an attention hog.  He doesn't like it when people aren't watching him and hanging on his every (though somewhat limited) antic.   I know that he is a sucker for praise and will do many cute baby "tricks" if he knows he'll be rewarded with by the awe and amazement of his audience. I know that he loves to smile and will do so at the slightest stimulus.  When I speak to him in sweet and gentle tones, I know he will respond with his own special brand of gurgling, cooing baby talk.  I also know he is my most ardent admirer.  If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I am flattered beyond belief several times a day.


Because I know these things, I find myself going down a self-perpetuating path of what some may consider parental narcissism.  My days are spent wanting to see my son smile at me--at me his mother who loves him and has devoted a large portion of her every day life to his health and happiness!  My heart skips a beat when he mimics a sound or gesture from me, and I spend much time attempting to illicit the imitation of speech from him.  He has been known to repeat "I love you" and "Aaaaooooogah!" back to me.  I am pleased when he learns to take "performance" cues to sit or stand or blow bubbles on command.  When he does the expected and hoped for action, I am lavish in my approbation and a feeling of warm, fuzzy, motherly pride wells up in my heart over how smart and strong my son is.  He is being trained to associate obedience and excellence with motherly praise and happiness.


My son is only four and half months old, but he is learning fast.  He knows things about his mother too.  He knows that I will spend all day holding him if he cries pitifully enough even when I'm so tired my eyes won't stay open, even when I don't know if my back can't take it anymore.  He knows that he's sad or not feeling well, I'll cradle him until he falls asleep no matter how lengthy or piercing his screams of discomfort.  He knows that when he smiles, I am captive to his whims and will dedicate myself to his jollity and entertainment for as long as he continues to express his delight.  He is training me to be a slave to his childish fancy.


A day is coming, however, when just knowing that he pleases me won't be enough.  He'll seek his independence and forge his own way with little to no thought for my desires and my happiness.  Just as I realized soon after bring him home that my kisses did more to make me feel better then him when he was fussy, I will one day make the bitter discovery that my attempts to connect and amuse him will be inadequate.  And he will learn in time that no amount of smiling or appealing to my sympathies will move me when I decide to put down the proverbial foot.


But that day is not now.  He is a curious infant, exploring his world and learning his place in it.  I, his mother, drunk with the wonder and awe of it all, am overwhelmed by a kind of love I never understood before.  We will both grow in the days, months, and years to come.  Constantly redefining our relationship and the boundaries between mother and child, our roles, motivations, and intentions will forever be in flux.  


We are both training each other speak the love language we understand best.  May we always do it with grace.