The Return of Parenting Awesomeness
September 14, 2009 at 9:59 pm | In Declan, parenting | 5 CommentsRemember the despair that I tried to convey in my last post? Born of exhaustion and shame?
Well. It’s gone. I’m well-rested and confidence in my parenting abilities has been reestablished!
How? Why?
Well, unlike “Operation Nippy Removal“, this plan worked.
I left work, drove like mad to Target, and purchased an alarm clock/radio. That evening, prior to putting Declan to bed, all of us “practiced”. Savannah, Kevin, and I layed on the floor in Declan’s room as he watched. I turned on the radio and we all sat up, saying things like “It’s awake time! It’s time to eat breakfast!”. Then, I’d turn off the radio and we’d all lay down as if we were sleeping. After a couple of practices, Dec totally understood the process. When the radio went on, he’d call, “Mommy, time to wake up!”, etc.
Kevin was skeptical about this plan.
Since Declan had been waking up around 5:45 am, I set the alarm for 6:30 am the first morning. Prior to bed, I turned the monitor way down and took a sleeping pill (this greatly enhanced my ability to sleep through 45 minutes of crying the next morning).
Day 1: Alarm set for 6:30 am. He awoke at 5:50. I let him cry until 6:30. As soon as the alarm went off, I hurried in there and said, “Your music is on? It’s time to wake up! Time to eat!”. His sobbing immediately ceased and a huge grin took over his face.
Day 2: Alarm set for 6:30 am. He slept until 6:30 and the alarm woke him up. Damn.
Day 3: Alarm set for 6:30 am. He slept until 6:15 am, and we heard him playing quietly in his crib. When the alarm went off, he called, “Mommy! Awake time!”. Much praised ensued.
Day 4: Alarm set for 7:00 am. Awoke at 6:50 am and played quietly (Please note: not only is he NOT crying, but he’s actually sleeping later!).
Day 5: Alarm set for 7:30 am. Once again, he awoke slightly earlier and played quietly.
Day 6 – Day 9: Repeat.
Day 10-Day 13: Went to Washington, DC. Declan slept in the same room as me. When he awoke, I’d bring him into bed with me and he’d sleep until 7:30 am. Pro: still sleeping later; Con: sleeping in my bed. We were afraid that we had undid all of our progress.
Day 14: Back at home. Prior to going to bed, Dec pointed to his alarm clock and said, “Awake time!”. The next morning, he awoke prior to his alarm and played loudly until his alarm went off. Phew. I think it’s going to be okay.
Well, it’s working! I may have broken him, but I least I fixed him . . . I hope.
Super Mommy . . . up, up, and away!
Shame
September 1, 2009 at 9:56 pm | In Bad Mommy Moment, Declan, parenting | 3 CommentsWell, I’ve done it. I’ve officially broken Declan. My colossally bad parenting has resulted in an immediate need for a swift, painful intervention. This is worse than the nippy fiasco of April 24, 2009.
Remember this post? Notice how the third line says, “It could lead to very, very bad things”? Um, yeah. Well. About that.
My breakdown in parenting awesomeness started on May 28, when that last post was written. It started with occasionally letting Declan nap in my bed when he arose from his nap too early. I’d lay him down at naptime. If he awoke after sleeping for less than an hour, I’d scoop him up, lay him in my bed, and say sternly, “It’s naptime. Go to sleep or you’re going back in your crib”. Acting all deceptively compliant, he’d settle down and close his eyes. Sometimes he’d even remain on his side of the bed. It seemed like a win-win situation. He’d get a longer nap, and I’d get blessed silence for another hour.
And I can’t say that Kevin didn’t warn me. On a couple of occasions, Kevin could pull down the covers at night and pull out one of Decky’s crumpled blankets. I’d foolishly try to defend my actions, saying things like, “I thought we’d just play on the bed so we wouldn’t wake up Savannah”, or “I thought I’d just get him to settle down, then put him back in his crib”. It was pathetic, really. All lies.
I keep telling myself, “Well, he’s going to grow out of needing a nap anyway . . . what’s the harm of letting him sleep with me for a couple months? It’s not like he’s sleeping in our bed at night.”
Simultaneous with this breakdown of naptime protocol, Dec starting getting up insanely early. Like, at 5:45 am. The second the sun drifted over the horizon, he was up. His eyes would open, he’d immediately propel himself into a standing position in his crib, and he’d whimper.
“Mommy.”
“Mommy. All done.”
“Mommy. Wake up time.”
“Mommy. Mommy! Mommy. Eat time.”
What started out as whimpers and whines quickly progressed to crying. Then screaming. Then screaming interspersed with hiccuping and gasping. All within about two minutes. By the time I entered his room to comfort him, I think he had said “Mommy” at least 437 times.
So I hung curtains in his room. Then I hung blackout curtains behind them. It was nice and dark. That worked for a few days.
Then I decided that I would enter his room, inform him that it was still night time, and leave the room, determined to let him cry until the decent hour of 6:30 am. This did not work (although it was torture listening to him cry, so there is a small chance I didn’t really implement this intervention for a long enough time to promote it’s effectiveness).
This next detail is where my most significant amount of shame enters the picture.
When he started waking up early (prior to 6:30), I’d pick him up and bring him in the bed with us. The first time I did this (on a Saturday morning), he slept in our bed until 8:30 am. 8:30 am! It was like a sleeping miracle.
Which reinforced my poor choice.
Of course, he’s never really done that since.
But the kicker? The moment of clarity when I truly knew in my heart that I had robbed my son of his ability to sleep independently?
It happened this morning at 6:08 am. I heard him shriek, “Mommy’s bed! I want Mommy’s bed!”.
It’s like the record stopped. Errrrrrrrk. Mommy’s bed? My kid is demanding to get in Mommy’s bed? Where on earth did he get the idea that he could choose to sleep anywhere aside from his crib???
Shit.
This is entirely my fault.
Now what?
Serendipity
May 28, 2009 at 10:37 am | In Declan, parenting | 5 CommentsToday I had an experience that I have never had before.
It happened completely accidentally.
It could lead to very, very bad things.
But at the same time, it was a little gift.
Mothers who read this will think I’m weird for thinking it’s such a big deal.
Here goes . . .
Declan took a nap with me today. In our bed. With me.
Now, I’ll start by saying that neither one of my two children have ever slept in our bed. Prior to having kids, we decided that we would not be those parents who let their kid sleep in their bed “just this once” and then shhooooopppp, fast-forward four years and the kid has her own pillow, knows how to turn off Dad’s alarm clock, and reminds Mom when its time to change the sheets.
Then Savannah came home from the hospital. All five pounds, eight ounces of her. That first night, I didn’t want to set her down. So I just put her in bed with us, directing a wordless, “I just gave birth to your daughter so don’t even think of objecting to anything I want” glare at Kevin when he started to open his mouth. I thought, “just this once”. I thought I’d drift off to sleep, my hand lightly resting on her still, swaddled form, and stir only when she gave a little cry signaling that she was hungry.
Um, no. Instead, her tiny breaths kept me completely awake. Her baby noises sounded like fire alarms. My body was held rigidly, for fear that I would roll over on her. I kept hissing at Kevin to stop moving/be quiet/turn off the light. I was so fatigued from labor and delivery–so emotionally wrought from the surge of hormones, yet I couldn’t relax enough to go to sleep. It was awful. Labor and it’s accompanying epidural was more relaxing, frankly.
The next night Savannah was moved into her own bedroom, where she has remained ever since. When Dec was born, it didn’t even cross our minds to let him sleep in the bed with us.
Today, Dec was put down for his nap at about 1:30 pm. Kevin left to go study for his board exams. I got into my bed to read. After a mere 40 minutes, Dec started crying. I ignored him for a bit, but his cries only got more shrill, so I went into his room, picked him up, and rocked him in the rocking chair for a few minutes. He seemed to immediately fall back asleep. I layed him back down in his crib. Screaming ensued. After 10 minutes or so, I entered his room, picked him up, and carried him to my bed. I was primarily doing it so he wouldn’t disturb Savannah, who was also napping. I thought he’d just play for a bit with me or possibly jump on the bed. Nope. He layed down, pulled his blankie close, and looked around contentedly. As I held him, our faces nearly touching, I closed my eyes. A couple of minutes went by and I peeked at him. His eyes were open, but his body remained motionless. A few more minutes went by. I could feel myself starting to doze. I peeked at him again. His eyes were closed! So weird. So I closed my eyes again and dropped off to sleep for several minutes. I woke up when I heard Savannah’s bedroom door open. I thought, “She’s going to see that Dec’s bedroom door is open and wonder where he is”. I heard her use the bathroom. I could hear her in the hallway. I thought, “She’s going to come in here and say something and wake Decky up.” Just then, Kevin came home (Kevin told me later that Savannah immediately came to him and said, “Declan’s not in his crib and Momma’s sleeping! I can’t find him!” Poor Savannah.)
Kevin came up the stairs, peeked in on us, and took Savannah back downstairs.
Child #1 dispatched, I had the luxury to watch Declan as he slept. He was laying on his side, with his blankie pressed up to his chest and neck, and my mind was transported back to his infancy. Then, I would swaddle him and rock him as he slept. Laying in the bed today, holding the same blanket that I used to swaddle him, I felt as though he looked exactly the same as he did nearly two years ago. I gazed at him as he traveled through each stage of sleep, and marveled at how his eyes opened and closed during his deepest stage of sleep. I could see beads of sweat on his temple. Occasionally he sighed, and a little puff of his breath would touch my face. It dawned on me that watching him sleep, especially from about 5 inches away, was an intimate experience that I had missed out on with both of my children. Watching an infant sleep while you’re trying to nurse or while your pushing the stroller or while you’re driving the car or while you’re eating in a restaurant is not the same as watching a your toddler sleep in the comfort of your bed, while you’re well rested and relaxed.
After I got my fill of watching him sleep, I closed my eyes again in preparation for a glorious nap with my son. After several minutes, I realized that his breathing was rather raspy. And his nose whistled. And his body heat was making me sweaty. And his blankie smelled vaguely of toddler drool. And he was hogging the bed. And my arm was asleep. And I needed to pee.
Sleeping with a toddler sucked.
After a while, I started to get antsy. I hadn’t moved in nearly an hour. I could see my novel laying a few feet away on the bed. On the other side of Dec. I slowly started to ease my arm out from under him. He stirred and I froze. I tried again. Success. I debated leaving the bed, but wondered if he would fall out of bed if I left him alone. Our bed is very high. What if he hit the nightstand on his way down? I listened for Kevin and Savannah. It sounded like they were having a great time downstairs. I envied them. I was hot and sweaty up here, trapped in the bed with a loud breather and a bed hogger. And what if Dec woke up and thought, “Oh my goodness, that was the best nap ever. I want to sleep with Mommy every single day and night”? I wondered if I’d have to go back to work full-time to break him of this new habit. I mean, the kid is super clingy as it is. What if I just caused him to need an additional five years of therapy? This was a terrible idea. What possessed me to bring him into bed with me? Why, why, why?
What happened to my tender feeling of 15 minutes ago? When I was basking in the closeness between us? Oh, right. My tender feelings were sweaty and cramped. They were being masked by the grunts and lip-smacking from the 27 pound kid laying practically on top of me.
Thankfully, when he awoke a few minutes later, he didn’t seem to linger on the fact that he was in the bed with mommy. He just sat up, looked around, and grinned at his sister as she entered the room. She reminded him it was time for snack. “Nack!”, he agreed, and took his little independent self off downstairs, without even looking back at me.
His blanket was left forgotten on the bed.
I sniffed it. Yup, it still smelled like Decky drool.
Nippy Trauma
May 1, 2009 at 10:33 pm | In Day to Day, Declan, parenting | 9 CommentsLast year at this time, there was BIG NEWS in the Nusz household. Savannah had relinquished her nippy. At the time, she was 2 years and 10 months old.
Last weekend was Dec’s coming of age. Why, you ask? After all, he’s only 21 months old. And a chronic whiner.
My theory about pacifiers has always been that if a child is old enough to really understand why the nippy is discontinued, they will cope with its loss better. I don’t think it’s fair to just have it disappear one day. I think I have a fear that they will subconsciously look for it for the rest of their life. So, I waited until Savannah was old enough to understand when I told her that she was a big girl and didn’t need a nippy anymore (and I snipped off the end of it, which helped her realize that she didn’t really need it).
We’ve been murmuring about getting rid of Dec’s pacifier for awhile now. A few weeks ago, his friend Sara successfully got rid of hers. Then his friend Madeleine did also. Did they fuss? Not really. Did they lose sleep? Nope. Did they throw themselves on the floor and scream “Momma! Nippy! Momma!” for days and days (do you see where I’m going with this?)? Absolutely not.
Things came to a head last Friday (April 24: 1 year and 2 days from the great nippy removal of Savannah Elizabeth). As Kevin and I readied the kids for school, I suddenly realized that I had forgotten to bring Dec’s pacifier home from school the previous day (he has a million, so he hadn’t missed it at bedtime). Kevin said, “Oh, I don’t think I remembered to bring one yesterday”. I was dumbfounded. His teacher hadn’t mentioned Dec not having a pacifier! Did he cry all day and his teacher didn’t mention it? So Kevin took the kids to school and asked Ms. Gina if Dec had used his pacifier at naptime. She said, no, he hadn’t. He had layed down and slept for 2 hours without the pacifier.
Well. I think that’s a sign. He’s ready. Let’s roll with this.
Kevin tells Ms. Gina to TRY and avoid giving Dec the pacifier at naptime. I wait on pins and needles all day, wondering if he’ll repeat his performance from the day before. He does. He’s fine.
So, even though Kevin’s brother’s family is coming into town that day for the weekend, we make the decision to rid our home of the pacifier. This is what I do:
1) I call my friend Kerry and ask her if we can use her baby daughter, Anna, for “Operation Nippy Removal”. She agrees.
2) I go to Target and purchase a big blue ball that Dec has been coveting.
3) After picking the kids up from daycare, we go to the doctor’s office because Savannah is complaining of her ear hurting. She has an ear infection. The doctor checks Dec’s ears too, just so I can be sure that when he’s crying over his lost nippy that he isn’t crying because of ear pain, too. His ears are fine.
4) We go home and eat dinner. Then I coach Dec through the process of gathering all his nippies together and putting them in a shoebox. We talk about how he’s going to give them to Baby Anna because she’s a baby and she needs the nippies. Decky’s a big boy and he’s all done with his nippies.
5) We climb into the car (the big blue ball is in the trunk, out of sight). Dec’s holding the box o’ nippies in his lap. We get to Baby Anna’s house and I park strategically so I can bring the big blue ball into the house without Dec seeing.
6) We enter the house and Dec is encouraged to give Baby Anna his gift. He does so, and we all clap. Baby Anna “gives” Dec the big blue ball, which is very exciting. Dec says bye-bye to the nippies and we go home. I’m so proud.
Fast forward to 7:00 pm. Bedtime. All my in-laws are visiting and are lounging in the living room. I read Dec his story and he asks, “Nippy?” I say, “No, you gave your nippies to Baby Anna”. He says, “Nippy bye-bye.” I agree. He says, “Nippy bye-bye. Ball!” I’m so pleased. He understands that he gave his nippies to Baby Anna and he got a ball!
As I lay him down in his crib and rub his back for a minute, I think, “Wow, this is working! I’m like the best parent ever!” As I leave the room, a screech fills the air. “NIPPY!!!!” I shut the door, feeling tearful. “NIPPY! MOMMA!” The sobs are loud and wet. Within minutes he’s gasping for breath, “Nippy! Momma! Momma! Momma! Wahhhhhh!”
It’s awful. Seriously. I feel like the worst parent ever.
After 25 minutes of listening to his pleas, I reenter his room. His face is swollen and wet. Boogers stream down his face. He’s sweaty and his pajamas are all twisted, as though he’s been writhing around in his crib. I rock him for a few minutes and we talk about how “nippy is all gone”. He says, “no, no, nooooooo”. I say yes.
I leave the room again. After 10 minutes of wretched crying, he’s blessedly quiet.
I’m worried that he died of a broken heart.
1:20 am. Screaming in the night. Rocking. Screaming. Sleeping.
4:00 am. Screaming. Rocking. Screaming.
5:00 am Sleeping.
6:20 am Up for the day. A day of listening to him crying about nippy. A day of me cursing those little brats Sara and Madeleine who made this look so easy.
The day passes in a blur of crying and blanket-clutching. During naptime, he screams for nearly an hour. That night, he cries hysterically for 40 minutes, then falls asleep. He sleeps all night. I do not, wondering if he’ll wake up.
It’s now Sunday. For short periods of time, he plays nicely. Once again, he screams during naptime. He cries for 30 minutes at bedtime and sleeps through the night.
Monday morning. We all wake up. Within 1 hour, I am stricken with a terrible stomach bug. My in-laws come over to watch the kids while I huddle in the bathroom for most of the day. My mother-in-law puts Dec down for his nap. He cries for about 5 minutes and falls asleep. The worst is over.
It’s now been exactly a week. He still mentions nippy occasionally, but now reaches more quickly for his blankie. I’ll take it. A blankie can’t mess up his teeth, delay his speech, or be laced with cocaine and used by high-schoolers (did you know they do that? I digress).
We are a nippy-free household. Although I think that at least one of us still has a broken heart.
Daycare Parking Lot Musings
February 17, 2009 at 10:10 pm | In Day to Day, parenting | Leave a CommentAs I’ve mentioned before, I work 2-3 days per week as a school psychologist. I work from 7:00 am until approximately 3:30pm, after which I hightail it to the daycare to pick up the kids. I arrive at the daycare by 4:00 pm, which is a good time because snacktime is over. I’ve learned the hard way that children do not want to leave with their mommies when it means leaving a plate of goldfish and orange slices on the table. And if juice boxes are involved? Those same kids who clung to you when you dropped them off will disown you rather put on their coats.
Today, I arrive at the daycare at 3:45 pm. Hmmmm. I decide to salvage my self-esteem and wait until 4:00 pm to ensure that snacktime is over. I sit, idly watching the other parents as they pull into their parking spaces, exit their cars, and enter the building. I see the moms who are like me; who tear into the parking spot, rip off their sunglasses and hustle into the building in order to assuage their guilt about working all day. As though arriving at the classroom 3 minutes earlier is going to make their child feel more loved, more secure. I see the business-oriented moms, who exit their cars while holding their cell phones to their ears and barking orders to some unseen target. These same moms may exit minutes later still on the phone, dragging Junior by the hand, or they may be tenderly carrying their little one, asking them about their day and promising to read them a story when they get home. Some moms look exhausted. I imagine that the most wretched of these moms are single, forced by circumstance to play the role of mom and dad, hoping to get a breather at the end of a long day. Or I think that maybe they hate their jobs, and I feel grateful that I am not one of them. I see a dad striding into the daycare, exiting minutes later with bickering siblings who say spiteful things to one another as they buckle themselves into their booster seats. I wonder if the dad is going to go home and unload the dishwasher and start dinner, or if he’ll let the kids jump on the couch while he waits for his wife to get home and make dinner. I see him glance at his watch as he puts his car in reverse, and hope for his wife’s sake that he’s calculating how much time it will take him to throw together a lasagna.
As I see the clock approproaching 4:00 pm, I turn off my car, throw my sunglasses on the seat, and hustle into the building to see my babies.
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