Digesting "The No Cry Sleep Solution"

Gone are the days when grandmas and aunties dispensed common sense and showed us how to handle our babies. Now, we glean gems of wisdom from parenting books. Problem is, if you have 120 pages to fill, those gems can be hidden in a mass of fluff.
If you are a sleep deprived mother, you might not have the stamina to search page after page in The No-Cry Sleep Solution: Gentle Ways to Help Your Baby Sleep Through the Night for the tidbits that will save your sanity. In the spirit of “nothing extra,” here is what I learned from author Elizabeth Pantley’s work. There’s more in the book—but to be honest, not a whole lot more. If you want more detail, do check it out [click on the image or title to go to Amazon listing]. As far as I can tell after asking around, none of these tips are huge secrets; old-school midwives and expert grandmas have always known them.

Sleep Training is Possible. But Do Check Your Motives.

If your baby isn’t sleeping well, you can gently train her to sleep in a way that works for you and your family—within reason.

First of all, make sure you know what you want, and how reasonable it is. “Sleeping through the night” means a five-hour stretch. Only train your baby to do things you really need her to do. The baby is not trying to manipulate you; and there is no need to control your child simply for the sake of feeling “in charge”.

Build a Regular Routine.

Both babies and parents appreciate a sleep routine. Institute this while baby is still young (although it’s never too late to start). Doing a predictable, calming series of things (e.g. bath, jammies, storytime) before bed helps the baby feel safe and primes her baby to fall asleep. Don’t wait for your child to run out of steam and fall asleep from exhaustion; that’s unkind to both them and you.

Keep a diary of your child’s sleep. The minute you notice them acting sleepily, do your nap routine. You’ll soon see that naps follow a predictable pattern. Try to keep to that. Schedule excursions, etc. for the awake times. (In my own case, my son wakes at 6:30am, naps for half an hour at 8:30am, naps again at 11:30am or noon unless he's really excited, and again at 3:30 or 4pm. Dinner is at 5:30pm and bedtime at 6pm every day.)

Encourage the Sleep Behavior You Want.

You probably don’t want to train your baby to sleep only at the breast (or bottle), or only in your arms. Even if it’s adorable now, it won’t be in a year. So, avoid the association between sleep and nipple in mouth. And avoid the association between sleep and your body by your baby’s side. Remove the nipple, or creep away, as she is drifting off. If she rouses enough to fuss, replace the nipple or lay back down, lull her, count to ten, and try again.

If you want your baby to fall asleep in all sorts of situations (background noise, laser-light show) lull her to sleep in all sorts of situations.

Put your baby to sleep for the night early. She will sleep better, and you will have time to feel like a sane adult. 6:30 or 7 is not too early. If bedtime is cranky time, try moving it half an hour earlier. Babies need a lot of sleep—make sure they get it!

Do not rush to your child’s aid at the first snort. Make sure she’s really awake before you pop the nipple in her mouth. Again, you don’t want to train her to need the nipple in order to sleep. (However, if you want to lengthen short sleep periods to long ones: then you should nurse the baby back into deeper sleep before she wakes completely. In this way, your baby will get used to sleepign for a longer stint before coming up for air.)

Be Persistent and Patient.

Instituting any new sleep habit will take time. Babies are most trainable up until 4-6 months. Consider that whatever you train your baby to do will may be what she does until 18-24 months, if not beyond.

Keep your eventual goal in mind. Training really may have to be gradual—two steps forward and three steps back. Remember what your aim is—say, for baby to fall asleep, or go back to sleep, without nipple in his mouth. Try to progress toward that, but remain flexible. A teething baby may truly need that comfort in order to fall asleep. Babies are ancient creatures; they are not built for instant consumer (read: parent) satisfaction.

Be Flexible.

Do not try to train your child when s/he is sick, colicky, or teething. For my son, that ruled out most of the first several months, except for a week here and there. Remember that you are aiming for a trend; it’s not a matter of getting it perfect every night.

Every baby really does sleep differently. And one child’s sleep habits will likely change radically as s/he develops. We were delighted that our baby was a “good sleeper”—until he wasn’t. He recently settled on a 5-7 hr block of sleep, with some 30-60 min periods before, and a 2-hr periods afterward. Our baby happens to sleep well in our bed; not all do.

It seems to me that every person’s sleep is different, and it seems reasonable that a baby will likely sleep like her parents do. If you are an insomniac and your baby is too, that might just be the way things are. The notion that you can somehow ruin your baby’s sleep and cause them to have a sleep disorder later is an attractively worrisome idea, but I can’t see how it could actually be proved.

My Input: Three BIG Cheers for the “No Cry” Part!

Babies and small children need their parents to be there for them. Feeling safe allows them to grow up into well-adjusted people. Crying it out, or allowing the baby to cry for progressively longer periods of time, isn’t something I am comfortable with. Being abandoned just when you need more comfort—well, how would that make YOU feel?

I should say I know people who have tried various “crying” cures and claim success. With all love and respect to them: I must have a very different baby! The times we let my son cry alone for a few minutes were the worst moments of my early motherhood. I cried as much as the baby. He did not quiet when we left him alone; he screamed louder. Five, ten, fifteen minutes later, I had a traumatized, rattled baby who was not OK the next day. I later realized—duh, he was in pain from colic. I was too sleep-deprived at that point to be anything other than desperate. I could have used a couple wise old crones in my life at that point.

As it was, in the absence of the aunties of yesteryear, the nuggets found in The No-Cry Sleep Solution were welcome indeed.

What Kind of Shoes are Best for My Baby?

It is my not-so-secret belief that the old ways are usually the best. Most of what we are supposed to buy for our kids these days is more about marketing than actual development. Babies need you--your face, your eyes, your moving mouth--more than they need any toy. They need your arms, and the physical joy of riding snuggled against your body, more than they need any car seat or stroller.

As I make decisions about how to raise my son, I often refer back to what my parents did with me. They were minimalist types as well, and their sensibilities were really those of an even older generation. Before the recalls on plastic toys, we had wooden ones because plastic was "tacky." Before the era of ultra-engineered colic-proof baby bottles, we were breastfed because, well, the breast is right there, the baby is hungry, and formula costs money.

When it was time for shoes, we went to the shoe store and were fitted for navy blue mary janes, with half an inch of "growing room" in the toe. From age four through eight, successively larger sizes of mary janes were all there was.

Maryjanes
Originally uploaded by abriwin

Before my memories, even, there were other shoes: little white first-walking shoes with bells. The bells were actually on little plastic capsules that enclosed the laces so I couldn't untie the shoes.

...So I couldn't untie the shoes. There's a clue there.

My son is crawling and standing and seriously thinking about walking. So naturally my maternal instincts turn to thoughts of shoes. Which shoes are best for my baby? Which shoes will give him healthy feet and help him learn to walk?

The answer, it turns out, is: None at all.

The little white walking shoes, and their little bells, and their little childproof laces are not good for babies' feet, as it happens. Babies want to learn to walk without shoes that throw them off balance. Naturally, they will try to take their stiff shoes off.

Beth's baby shoes
Originally uploaded by wurla88

So all that business about shoes helping your feet to grow? That was misguided at best, and sheer marketing bullshit at worst. Podiatrists now recommend that children go entirely shoeless for the first 3 years of life, and shoeless at home until age 12.

Won't my baby's feet get cold? Unless you have a concrete floor in your house, your little one's feet will be fine. Baby feet should be cool to the touch.

Won't my baby's feet get dirty? Ideally, everyone should go shoeless at home, not just the under-12 set. Your baby's feet won't get dirty if your floor isn't dirty. And your floor won't be dirty if you're not tracking in dirt from outside. Leave your shoes at the door. And if you really are concerned about dirty feet, remember feet are washable!

For going outdoors in winter, and for walking and crawling in strange places, a soft unstructured slipper-shoe like Robeez is very convenient. We have several pairs and love 'em. Robeez are little elasticized leather booties that slip on easily. They wear well and often show up at resale shops.

Robeez taste guuuud/ day182
Originally uploaded by mightymarce

Another brand of baby shoe I've heard good things about (but can't vouch for personally) is Pedoodles. These are a little more fashion forward and "finished" looking (no elastic). They come in a variety of adorable styles.

I am as vulnerable to adorable styles as anyone else, but where shoes are concerned, I think it's better to be cautious than fashionable. Truly, where infant shoes are concerned, LESS IS MORE.

---

Update: A friend just turned me on to Bobux. Not only have Bobux worked well for her son, but these shoes use a non-toxic leather.

My son is worse than any puppy when it comes to chewing on shoes. His own little shoes are the top target. When you consider that conventional tanning and leather-dyeing techniques are awash in toxins, it's hard to allow him this dangerous satisfaction. So I pry shoes away from him several times a day, and he complains quite shrilly.

But Bobux...he can chew them! I'm so excited for this, for my peace of mind, and for my son's impending delight.

Simplicity Without and Within

Beyond outer simplicity, there is an inner simplicity to strive for. So I take my baby to the Japanese Garden, rather than bombarding him with overstimulating toys.

I take my baby with me, in the first place, as we have the adventures that make up daily life.

The things we choose to do with our time are similar to the items we choose to have in our living space. In both cases, we aim to expend our energies wisely, acknowledging that everything has a cost.

We cannot live this day again. Nor can two objects occupy the same space.

Traditional Japanese garden in autumn
Originally uploaded by hoita

Frugality vs Simplicity

Today's article on frugal living in the Oregonian got me thinking about what this blog is NOT.

Frugality is about saving money. Scrimping, even. Being cheap.

I am not interested in being cheap. I am not particularly interested in blogging about the joys of saving a few cents, or even a few dollars, here and there.

I say this, but last week you might have seen me and the baby going through our building's recycling looking for redeemable cans and bottles. The baby would be riding on my back to avoid the ickiness of the recycling bins. And then we take our sticky and slightly smelly loot to our local Fred Meyer. Where we generally gross under a dollar.

Last time we took recyclables in, we made 90 cents, which we gave, to a woman begging outside the store. She had a sign that said she was pregnant. I am given to skepticism--a sign of a closed heart, perhaps. But I chatted with her, and eventually gave her the 90 cents. She was embroidering Disney characters onto little scraps of cloth. She said she was worried about the epidural, but determined to give her baby a home and a good life. As we talked, I saw that all her front teeth were rotten. Twenty-seven years old, three and half months pregnant, embroidering Ariel and Sleeping Beauty, but clear-eyed, well-guarded and somehow sure of herself. I showed her my baby, what she had to look forward to.

The point to this adventure was never the money from my neighbors' discarded beer bottles. It had to do with not wasting what was right there, out of principle rather than need. The recyclables spawned an adventure. You could say that we gave money to someone in need. Or that I was forced to confront my ideas about homelessness; perhaps I was made to notice the vulnerability of mothers and babies. Perhaps I imparted some sort of values to my infant son. Perhaps it was all nothing but a diverting way to spend an hour.

I'm not sure what taking the cans and bottles to recycle was all about, but it is relevant to this blog because the story of our trip to Fred Meyer is a story about having more of a Life. And less Stuff.

How to Stop My Baby Chewing Power Cords?

My baby loves power cords. It doesn't matter if they connect the computer to the charger, or a floor lamp to the wall. They are fascinating. And dangerous.

power hungry
Originally uploaded by t-squared

Even if a device is unplugged, allowing a baby to play with the cord is dangerous. Allowing her to chew the cord is worse: many appliances act as capacitors, meaning they can store some charge. If the plug goes in your baby's mouth--ZZZIP!--current can pass into her body. At worst, this could cause injury. At best, a nasty surprise. Not something we want to encourage.

Greater danger comes from the other end of the cord, the end with the radio or the lamp or the printer attached. Your baby may pull the appliance down, damaging it—or damaging herself!

So how to distract from those enticing Cords-Of-Desire?

Your first step should be to hide or conceal as many of the cords as possible, before your little one becomes inappropriately familiar with them. Perhaps you can thread the cords differently. Or put a piece of furniture in front of the outlet. Or even tape the cord out of sight, say to the back of a table leg. (Blue masking tape works well for this, since it doesn’t leave a mark.)

Once the baby does find a cord, your only option is to redirect his attention (if you can), and hide the cord (if you can). And then hope that, for your little one, out of sight is still truly out of mind. Before a certain age, babies forget about what they can’t see.

If you can't physically move the cord to tuck it out of sight, you may be able reduce the contrast with its surroundings. A black cord is a beacon against a white wall. Perhaps you can cover it with light-colored tape, or even find a light-colored cord--one that blends in to surroundings and doesn't scream to be chewed. This isn’t the best solution, but if the cord doesn’t stand out against the wall, that increases the chance that something else will catch your baby’s eye first.

Of course, you can’t hide all your electrical cords. And removing all corded appliances from your home is probably not an option. How can you keep your baby safe and happy, while satisifying the cord-chewing urge?

It's important to acknowledge that your baby isn't trying to be naughty. (Really!) Some deep urge is driving her; there is something going on with your little one that makes electrical cords Extremely Interesting. I suspect that mysterious something is teething, but I don’t know. The question for this article is, Can we substitute something that will satiate the baby's desire for cords? And the answer is Yes.

You need a safe cord alternative. Now, you could cut up old power cords, seal the wire ends with electrical tape, and give them to your baby. But the plastic in cords is not meant to be gummed and slimed and sucked on by small humans. Better to find a material that is chewable. A safe cord.

I should stress that a “safe” cord is not Completely Safe. You should never leave your child unattended in the company of anything that resembles a cord! No matter what you substitute, your cord alternative is not a toy. But a “safe” cord may delight your child, and it may make your life as a parent much more pleasant.

The first cord I adapted for baby use was a thick drawstring. I tied it in many delightful knots so that it would be bulky enough to prevent choking. Pediatricians recommend against letting babies play with lengths of loose string; a securely-tangled bunch of string is safer. Of course you don't want loops large enough to pose a strangulation hazard--but then again, you're not going to leave your baby alone with this, remember?



The drawstring has been a big hit for my little teether. I've even hooked it to a pacifier-tether and hung it within reach when we go out-and-about. Hours of fun right there, more than any other single toy, except:

Milk-pump tubing. This is the clear tubing that delivers suction from a breast pump to the suction cups. This tubing (often Medela brand) can be yours for about $10 online, and at any lactation equipment shop. It is made from a safe plastic that is free of PVC, BPA, and the other suspicious toxins du jour--so the material is safe for your baby to chew on. It is also delightfully firm-yet-yielding in tiny mouths.
Unfortunately, plastic tubing is hard to tie into knots, and it has blunt ends that can hurt if shoved in the mouth. Needless to say, you will be supervising your baby. But if you suspect that your child lacks the ability to learn that long skinny things hurt when shoved into the back of the mouth, you may wish to wait on this item. (Eventually, of course, your baby will learn not to jam things into the back of his throat, just as we all learned.)



The breast pump tubing offers everything that makes electrical cords so enticing. It is stringy, and bouncy. It can be flossed between the teeth, presumably soothing sore gums. And yet, with your supervision, it is a much safer alternative.

I have just one more thing to add—the one word of wisdom for every parenting problem—remember that This Too Shall Pass. As adults, you and I no longer feel the need to chew power cords. And one day our little children will have passed through this stage and be on to something else!

Clutter and the "Next Little Thing"

The recent story about tiny houses in the New York Times makes me smile. After living in a space the size of an office cubicle for a year and a half, any living space where you have room to take a few steps seems large.

The article neglects the obvious: that our friends the Japanese have always lived in tiny spaces. They do not complain. They find ways to conserve space: storing the bedding in a closet and rolling it out at night; building closet-like prefab fiberglass bathrooms; cooking in a kitchen barely large enough to turn around in. Thanks to that tiny kitchen, you might run down to the grocer for meal ingredients. Your limited private space makes you more likely to use public space for relaxing and general living; an evening stroll in one's pajamas is common in Japan. Tiny living space synergizes with ready access to public space to create a lifestyle where the personal and the communal are interwoven.

I don't mean to suggest that Japan is a utopia; it's just different. One lifestyle issue that plagues everyone who tries to live in a small space is CLUTTER. Those of us who enjoy acquiring meaningful (at least at the time) objects, know the depressing stagnation that can come from having a messy space. And those of us with children are in awe of our babies' magical powers when it comes to generating new possessions.

Some rules of thumb that have helped me in my quest for freedom in a small space:

Unbroken lines of sight are important.
Do not fill every inch of space. You need an open stretch of floor. A bare wall somewhere. These provide a visual cue that somehow relaxes the mind.

By the same token, do not spread objects out if you can cluster them instead. For example, if you arrange your potted plants in a clump on the windowsill, there will be plants and there will be the visual relief of windowsill. Plants that are spaced along the sill appear to fill the area, and your windowsill will appear cluttered.

You must arrange furnishings so as to optimize the square feet you do have. Perhaps the arrangement should chage depending on time of day. The Japanese stash bedding in a closet during the day, and set up futon on the open floor at night.

Reduce paperwork.
Ideally, you may not need a desk at all. Think about it. You can pay bills online; tote your laptop out when you need it; and stash it when you don't.

When you do get paper bills, don't 't keep them around; pay them and dispose of them. Paying over the phone using a credit card is quick and easy; if you choose instead to mail a check, do so at once.

Reduce the amount of mail you receive.
Register for the national "No Junk Mail List" (its actual name is something more poetic). Unlike the national Do-Not-Call registry, which is administrated by the Federal Government, and which telemarketers can be fined for disregarding, this is a private service that mail marketers can voluntarily access. So why would they take your name off their mailing lists? Because direct marketing to someone who doesn't want it costs them money. It's worth a try; you certainly won't receive more mail because of it! Of course, those pesky flier addressed to "Occupant", "Resident", or "Esteemed Neighbor" will probably continue.

Do your mail-order shopping online. When you place an order, request not to receive paper catalogs, and specifically request that the company also not share or sell your name. Similarly, when you subscribe to a magazine, remember to ask that they not share or sell your name. When stray mailings do arrive, immediately call to have them canceled. It's worth a minute of your time to prevent your name being sold to the next catalog, and the next.

Stash. But Wisely.
Small items you need ready access to can be stored in a cabinet. It can be a built-in cabinet, say in the kitchen; or a separate piece of furniture. Whatever you choose, it must have doors (or drawers) that close completely to present a clean uncluttered front. envelopes and arch supports and cloth napkin collection need to go somewhere. I'm currently using sleek-looking sideboard. Each shelf or drawer has its theme. For example: "personal health" (arch supports, first aid, extra ointments and lotions); "correspondence" (envelopes, stamps, address book, greeting cards); "gifts" (tchotchkes for regifting, pretty boxes, wrap, and ribbons); "dining" (cloth napkins and tablecloths). In a small house, there's no reason not to store your extra toiletries near your office supplies. Your storage area is never going to be far from the kitchen, or the bathroom, or the study.

Store it? Or send it to the store?
Small items you do not need ready access to are objects that your life in its current form probably doesn't require. Some people suggest putting these items--old clothes, old files--in opaque boxes or bags, mark them with a "dispose-by" date, and chuck them when you've lived that long without requiring the contents.

Especially if you are paying for storage, consider the monthly cost of retaining things you do not use, versus the value of the items and the trouble to reacquire them. A year's worth of storage costs at least $600. Are your unused treasures worth that?

If you don't need it, and it's small, it's probably an item of sentimental significance. Is there some way--besides entombment in a storage box--to memorialize the camp T-shirt you never wear, or a decade-old crumbling art project? I took digital photos of many of my crumbling childhood mementos. That made it easier to part with them, and I find that I don't miss them at all. If I'm feeling nostalgic, I can always call up the photo on my computer--where it takes up virtually no space at all.

If you live simply and are not afraid of second-hand items, it may behoove you to dispose of things and repurchase similar ones, rather than storing your treasures or letting them clutter your living space. I do this with clothes I'm tired of. I donate old shirts and skirts to the second-hand store where I bought them, and come home with "new" items. Essentially, the second-hand store functions as a sort of giant closet, from which I rent this season's outfits.

So donate what you aren't using. And when you do need something, you can often find it at Goodwill or a local thrift store for pennies on the dollar.

Clutter is just part of the story
Controlling clutter is an important aspect of living in a small space. But it's not the only consideration. Living in a small space entails a certain creativity. You will be forced to question your assumptions about what a living space needs, and what you need to live in a space. What do I really have to keep, and what can I digitize? What can I donate? What can do double duty?

Living a simple, ecologically-aware lifestyle means being unafraid to recycle and reuse objects. Controlling clutter means becoming free from bondage to your stuff.

P.S. ...a word on antiques
When the time does come to buy something, consider whether a new item is really necessary. Even discounting the issue of sustainability, used items are often superior. I have found that antiques are generally more sturdy, attractive and economical than new furniture. They retain their value well. And they are built to a scale appropriate for smaller spaces.

Relevant advice on life in small spaces from Treehugger here.

Generations

Being human means enjoying the ongoing love of our mothers and grandmothers, in the form of "advice" and general worry.

I've talked to a number of mothers of grown children, and they all say the same thing: you never stop being a mom. You never stop worrying about your kids.

My own mother certainly feels free to contribute her opinion about what I should be doing, as well as what I might like to do, and what I should not do. Example: Me: I've been thinking I'd like to have a bed and breakfast. Mom: No you wouldn't! Thanks mom. I guess that concludes that conversation! I didn't appreciate this as a teenager, but in the intervening 15 years or so, I learned not to bother taking offense; it's just the way she is. As the years wore on, I didn't really understand her intrusiveness. But then she didn't really understand me either. So we were even. And a growing confidence in my own abilities came to displace defensiveness in reaction to her pronouncements.

Now, as I look at my own little baby, and feel the enormity of a mother's love, I can even begin to understand what would compel a person to contribute her own passionate but highly subjective advice to her otherwise perfectly competent grown daughter. There is nothing more important than this person I have given birth to. And look, they're an extension of me! The stage is set for years of delightful worrying and prodding and nagging--all those things that make having a mother so memorable.

And of course, the stage is now set for years of grandmothering. My mother's advice to me on raising my son is predictably just like her.When he cries with teething pain, I should give him whiskey! When he's fussy at the breakfast place, I should feed him a homefried potato!

Jameson Irish Whiskey
Originally uploaded by rjt208

My mother isn't even particularly serious about these things: she's just feeling a certain joyful subversive desire to shake up my careful parenting plans. In my world, a five-month-old baby does not need to be eating off his mama's plate. Which is exactly why my own mother wants to shake things up.

When you stop poking fun and look at is seriously, this inimitable mothering--and grandmothering--style, is a kind of transmission of wisdom. I may roll my eyes at my mother's advice, but I do in fact come from a long line of women who have put whiskey on their babies' gums and fed them whatever they were interested in eating. Generations of grandmothers have weighed in on how to hold a baby and how to feed a baby; they have spoken up and given their opinion on how to dig the roots, how to harvest the fruits, how to tan the skins, how to preserve the food for the winter. Evolutionary biologists call this the Grandmother Effect. Without these fearless old women, human societies would not endure. It is because of the wisdom of the elders--old women in particular, actually--that human lifespan extends so long beyond our most fertile years. We need the old ladies to stick around and tell us how they did it in their time

The reason that my mother, and the generations of grandmothers the world has seen, do what they do is simple: love. They love their children intensely. They delight in their grandchildren with a profound passion. Now I feel what a mother would do for her child, and I witness the joy of the grandmother.

To Hold A Grandchild
Originally uploaded by Églantine

This ongoing devotion is a very human endeavor, when you compare us to other mammalian groups. As a child, I knew dozens, maybe hundreds of mothers, whose devotion faded very quickly. I grew up on a sheep farm, a small back-to-the-land fantasy turned all too muddy and real. We had from fifty to one hundred ewes who every year gave birth to baby lambs.

Like the ewes, of what we do is instinctive, beyond conscious control. The milk lets down. The mother wakes half a minute before they happen. Her voice soothes him. Her hand comforts him back to sleep. Like a mother sheep nuzzling her lamb's tail, I like to pat my son's bottom as he feeds. Baby lambs and baby humans are linked to their mothers with bonds far more ancient than they are different. We give birth and nourish our little ones in remarkably similar ways.

Which is why what happens next is interesting. The baby sheep gradually drifts away from its mother's side and, it would seem, out of her heart. Aside from a similarity in their overall dispositions--a calm mother has calm offspring; a flighty mother raises flighty progeny--there is no social link between a ewe and her grown progeny. In general, sheep don't maintain bonds. They don't have friends, they don't seem to associate preferentially with certain individuals, and they certainly don't continue to take a familial interest after babies are weaned.

Curiosity
Originally uploaded by Robby Garbett

Although every sheep has a grandmother, just as we do, there are no Grandma sheep. There is no older ewe instructing, challenging, worrying over, and cherishing her daughter and her daughter's babies. The ongoing devotion that mothers and grandmothers feel is what binds us into families and cultures. To ever stop fretting, to ever stop "being a mom," would mean losing that precious heart that remembers--and the precious heritage of our humanity.


Do you see the Grandmother Effect in your own life? What gems of advice--helpful or nutty--have you received?

The Un-Science of Parenting

As a new parent of a new (well, four and half month old) baby, it's surprising the number of topics I suddenly feel qualified to comment on. Pregnancy, for example. I've done it exactly once, but I was paying attention most of the time. Ditto for vaginal childbirth, and the various degrees of sleep deprivation that follow. I wouldn't say that I'm an expert on these things in general, or that I could speak for every woman's experience. But I do know myself, and I know my baby.

Back when I was a research scientist, I was an expert on a very, very narrow body of knowledge. So narrow, in fact, that maybe only a few dozen people in the world had any substantial interest in my findings for their own sake. That's how it is in science, and people still publish papers and discuss their findings and manage to hobnob with the other aficionados.

When it comes to parenting, yes I'm the expert on my little kid. But the discoveries I make about him probably don't apply to anyone else at all.

Take, for example, this marvelous little high-pitched cough he does. It started as a waking-up sound, but he has begun using it when awake as a "Give me attention" signal.

I get up and go to the kitchen. "Cough!"--as in, "Ahem, mama, I need you to watch me while I chew on this little toy."

I fix some lunch. "Cough! Cough!" ("You should be out here by now.")

It's cute; it's fun to talk about, but how useful is it to anyone else? This is probably the only baby in the world that makes this particular sound to mean this particular thing. It's incredible that a person this young has come up with his own signal for something. But you couldn't hope to write a research article called "A sound produced by young humans to attract parental attention".

Not only is the truth not universal, what is true for a particular kid also changes. Extremely unscientific, that. Sometime last week, around the time he started sitting, and probably getting all full of himself, the carefully-engineered nap time routine that once knocked my son cold every time suddenly ceased to be effective. I'm still looking for a new routine, but I suspect that the kid just doesn't need as much sleep as he used to. Gone are the days of multiple two-hour naps. I should have enjoyed them more.

When you're a scientist, being an expert on something confers prestige. Now, it brings a different kind of satisfaction. When I know how to respond to my son's needs, when it seems that we are actually understanding one another--even if he's in pain and there's nothing I can do--that's more real to me than a paper in Nature.

A mother navigates by intuition and the expertise born of long hours of patient study. What we do is certainly not a science. But it is an Art.

Holding a Baby's Joy--and a Baby's Pain

Sometimes living a simple life is as simple as watching what a child needs.

Yesterday we stood in a long line on the linoleum of a midcentury post office watching the lone clerk. Four o'clock in the afternoon is a trying time for babies and adults. My little guy, on the verge of fussing, kept himself busy by smiling at whomever would meet his eyes. When the adults looked at me questioningly, I encouraged them to engage with the baby. Keeping everyone a little happier, I thought.

There was another baby there, also five months old, crying like a little animal. This is the sound that grates on your heart. He needed to be held, clear as words. His papa looked into the stroller and told him he was OK. The baby opined otherwise. When was finally picked up, he quieted and looked around with satisfied little eyes. He had all he needed. But then, it was time to go, and back to the stroller. The man said, "You don't have a choice, buddy. You don't have a choice," over and over to his son as the little boy cried across the glossy lobby and out the door.

I smelled the hair of the little boy riding on my chest. Mumbled the Jizo mantra to his scalp. How difficult to be a baby, to suffer and cry so much, even in the best of situations.

OM KA KA KABI SAN MA E SOWA KA

I wanted to lecture that man: You DO have a choice to hold your baby, I wanted to say. My goodness, all babies are cranky at 4pm. But it's OK to baby a baby! Hold your son now, while he'll still let you. You have years to guide him into the man you imagine you want him to be.You can't possibly spoil him now.

But they went on their way, and I still don't know what, if anything I should have done. A new father, with a new son. Perhaps caught up in some idea of toughness and competence. Perhaps not: my assumptions spilled forth as fast as my unwanted advice. I can only take this scene for what it teaches me about myself: the crying, the compassion, the fierce defense of babyness.

Today, with a newfound tenderness for my wiggling little boy, I take us up the stone steps, up up to Portland's Japanese Garden. The baby cranes his neck to see the koi, who glide through patches of bright and dark water--golden, and painted. Clouds of bugs are busy above. The air sings with water rushing and trickling; and the sound of rake on gravel.

Over our heads, a squirrel works a hundred-foot fir tree. Cones plummet down, one every few seconds. We watch from a safe distance.

Douglas-fir trees
Originally uploaded by oldmantravels

In this place, it is easy to feel what the baby needs. The baby needs to look at the waterfall and to observe the gardeners raking the gravel. When he is finished he looks up into your face.

What do I know now? We as parents will somehow guide these little creatures into the full light of their humanity. In due time, they show us how to lead them, if we'll listen. At five years, you can teach restraint, proper behavior, manners. But at five months, it's simple: hold your baby.

Introduction

I came to parenthood by way of Zen practice, temple residency, a stint as a teacher, and a sudden and wonderful meeting with an old friend who soon became my husband. The two of us came together for many reasons, some explicitly known, some dimly felt.

One of the ideas that we shared, practiced and aspired to was the notion of "nothing extra." Deeper even than belief, we felt--we knew somewhere deep down, that a life lived simply with a minimum of "stuff," was best. We felt that a quiet life, focusing on the essentials, is best. We had both lived with very little, and we knew how much was Enough.

We lived together very happily for the first few months in my 300-square-foot studio apartment, sleeping on a mat we unfolded onto the floor at night. My husband took a leave from work to do some remodeling on our new flat, a fifty-year-old one-bedroom apartment in a vibrant old Portland neighborhood. When I moved in, I was in my mid-thirties, pregnant, and the owner of my first "real" bed!

Becoming a parent has very tangibly been part of the spiritual journey. I am opening this blog as a forum to share ideas, to mull over the practical and the abstract aspects of this vast new territory, and to inspire others in their own parenting.

This is not a exhortative blog, but it is an effort to explore "nothing extra." You won't catch me boasting about how I can raise my son with nothing but a piece of string and paperclip. (At least I certainly hope not. That would be irritating to read, and choke hazard to boot!) If my choices are not your choices, all can still be well in the world. But I hope to point out the choices we are making, whether we recognize them or not.

Some food for thought, then, to share in the comment section, or just ponder on your own. Can your parenting philosophy be summed up in a few words? What are your deepest hopes for your child(ren)? What does it mean to be a parent in this world of ours? I'll be working on my own responses to these questions, and more, as this work unfolds.