Sleep Training (Part One)

With the six month mark having passed us by and our travel calendar (consisting of a six-month best of two weekends away in a row) now cleared, my wife and I made the decision to train young Sophie in the art of sleeping by herself.

Up until now, her sleeping cycle has consisted of being rocked and jiggled to sleep over 2-3 hours in about every room of the house as we worked on the principle that she liked moving around - after all, falling asleep in the pushchair was never a problem.

However, all the books said the best way was to put her in her cot and let her fight her way to sleep. The theory behind this is that they need to learn to fall asleep by themselves and the longer they take to learn the more parents have to put up with.

But boy can she scream.

And flip herself on her stomach.

And scream.

And flip over on her back again.

And scream.

And (it seems like magic) she can go to sleep.

There's a transition that only takes a few seconds between being one of the angriest young women on the planet, hating her cot and the uncaring parents who are just stood there watching her struggle and the change to blissing out, mouth open, arms outstretched, and gently snoring.

It's been two nights so far, averaging about two hours each time. We're betting everything on two hours being all she can manage as it's about our limit too.

Perhaps the worst part, though, is that living in London it's not just us who are suffering. I hope the neighbours have as high a tolerence as us right now, if not, we have a bottle of wine and a set of ear plugs for any neighbours who come knocking at the door.

Why I Love Daylight Savings (the Spring Addition)

Ah, daylight savings, spring forward, fall back and all that. My wife and I have been trying to get our daughter Sophie into a routine for a few weeks now and then along comes the government and changes things on us.

It's a nice feeling to be able to blame the government for some of my parenting difficulties. Yep, blame the government, that has a nice ring to it. I'm going to have to look for more ways they make my life hard. I wonder how difficult that's going to be . . .

But while I wasn't looking forward to daylight savings (pardon the pun), it did bring me one small, rare and petty victory over my daughter. Every morning when Sophie wakes up, my second thought is "I can't wait to see my daughter". Unfortunately (and this is something I'm working on as part of my quest to become the perfect Dad), my first thought is, "what I wouldn't give for another hour's sleep".

And guess what.

This morning, when I looked at the clock, another hour of sleep is exactly what I had got. So for the first time ever I'm grateful to daylight savings for giving me an almost normal sleep. It looks like Sophie has been preparing for daylight savings since the day she was born (all of 12 weeks).

So maybe instead of blaming the government I should do something nice, maybe give them a donation. A tithe sounds about right, 10% of my wages. On second thoughts it was a great hour's sleep, so maybe I should show some real appreciation and double that, perhaps more than double it? And what do you know, a quick look at my payslip and someone's done it already. How thoughtful of them . . .

Filters (I Don't Hear No Crying)

The other night I had been holding my daughter Sophie for about half an hour while she was trying to get to sleep. I was watching TV, I can't remember what it was, but there was nothing great on. Then, suddenly, I realised she was crying again, and not just crying, screaming. Somehow I had filtered it out completely.

My first thought was, what a crying shame to waste my moment of Zen-like focus watching TV!

My second thought was that I have moments like this every day. My journey in from Streatham officially takes about 50 minutes door to door. Some days it crawls by and the train takes an age to get from station to station. Other days I'm at work before I realise it, and haven't even got annoyed by anyone taking up my personal space on the train.

My daughter (and all babies) have the same thing. If they have decided to sleep then it's impossible to wake them. I can pick Sophie up, change her nappy and put her down in another room with no problem. This makes them great when we want to take photos as it's the onnly time they stay still - being pushed in a hollowed out log (like in the picture above) takes equal place with being tucked up in a cot. When she has decided that she doesn't want to sleep though, there is a problem. The slightest noise can wake her (heck, even no noise can wake her).

I think life would be so much easier if I could filter our attention like this. It's like the old self help saying that while you can't control what happens to you (the baby in your arms is crying), you can control how you react to it (ignore it - oops, I think "ignore" might be the wrong word here!).

If babies could concentrate on sleeping when they're meant to be sleeping, it would make parents' l Of course this is never going to happen in the real world, so put the word out I'm working to invent an attention filter, or even better, I'm looking to buy one. And I promise I won't waste it watching TV!

Last Night I Dreamed I Was Holding a Baby

I think the subtitle for this post shold be something like, "Does it count as having your turn if you only dreamed it?"

Last night was my turn in charge and so I got my daughter to sleep, collapsed into bed and went straight to sleep.

Unlike her state in the picture above, I dreamed that she was grizzly, so I was rocking her to calm her and send her back to sleep. She kept crying, so I started to rock harder, full of good intentions, but I just couldn't get her down. I was finally about to admit defeat and pass her over to my wife when my wife gave me a jab in the ribs. "Ouch", I said, "what was that for?" She explained that it was my turn to get up and look after our daughter, all the rocking I had been doing was in my sleep.

A quick debate revealed that my dreamwork did not count towards anything. Usually dreaming of someone is a good thing, but from some children, there is no escape.

What Was Sleep Again?

I never really appreciated what sleep was before I had my daughter. When it's just you and your wife, a bad night's sleep is when one of you has an extra glass of wine (or whiskey) and starts to snore. A sharp elbow to the ribs soon fixes the problem and peace resumes. I haven't tried tis with my daughter yet, but I'm assuming it wouldn't work!

Not that she snores (if only snoring was the problem, I'm sure little girls can't snore too loudly). No, it's the cries and the screams that get me. Hour after hour of holding her, gently rocking, slowing down, slowing down, then speeding up again when she stirs, slowing down, slowing down again . . .

There's a sort of a Zen aspect to it after a while, we both go into a rocking trance. That usually works after about 20 minutes, then the really dangerous part begins - getting her from vertical rocking to horizontal sleeping. Talk about more sensitive than a spirit level, she knows what that movement means, Dad is trying toget away and if therer's any part of her still conscious, then that part is going to fight with everything it's got not to be left alone.

So here I am at 11pm too tired to sleep and with work getting ever closer in the morning. What better time than to post to a blog? I guess I should be flattered, really. I have a daughter that loves me, or at least cares enough to scream when I try to leave her (hey, that's a lot more than my wife does). And when she does go to sleep, there's nothing better than watching her, completely relaxed in my arms or lying on my chest. They're so trusting and content, it's impossible not to feel a surge of love go out.

There's an irony there somewhere. I think she's fickle, one minute playing and laughing, then crying, then laughing and gurgling away, but on the other hand, just when I'm getting completely fed up with her and ready to put her in a room and close the door behind her, she'll catch my eye and smile, or shut her eyes and sleep so peacefully that no Dad could resist.

So fickle Dad and fickle daughter, we make a great team. I'm not sure what she'll be like when she's older, but I'm afraid she'll be ale to get away with murder. I should start thinking up some strategies to counter her daughterly wiles, maybe I should sleep on it . . .

Won't Someone Shut that Baby Up? 5 Ways to Stop the Crying

There's only one thing worse than being on public transport when there's a baby crying, and that's when the crying baby belongs to you.
When my daughter decides to cry, there is absolutely nothing I can do to make her stop straight away, there's no "off button" or mute, and abandoning her on a brick path, or on the side of the road, while tempting on occcasions, is definitely not an option.

Also, if wishing a baby would be quiet worked, then I don't think there would be such a thing as a crying baby, except maybe as a curiosity in the odd exibition at the Tate. So for that reason, a baby crying in public shouldn't be any more stressful than one crying in private at home.

Of course knowing that and acting on it are two very different things. I've made a list of 5 common reasons for crying below, and written down it seems nice and easy to identify and deal with, and most important, to understand. Now I don't recommend printing these out and passing them to the people who give out disapproving looks and expect them to nod in as understanding way and accept you as the owner of a crying baby, but sometimes it helps get things in perspective.

1. Hungry - babies cry when they're hungry. This is usually pretty easy to identify, even for novice fathers like me. Our daughter gives it away when she starts headbutting and sucking things. The solution for this is easy, just give her a feed.
   
2. Full Nappy - babies don't like having a wet nappy, and it leads to horrible things like nappy rash. Having overcome some initial reservations about how to identify it, this Dad now knows that the easiest way is giving the offending area a quick sniff. Not always pleasant, but definitely effective. The solution for this one isn't too hard either - remove old nappy, dry the area and throw on a fresh one.
   
3. Hot or Cold - babies don't like being too hot or cold and let it be known by, you guessed it, crying. Being winter in London, we don't have too much experience with the too hot part, but definitely cold hands, feet, and especially noses. The solution for a cold baby? Again, this is not rocket science, give her heat (body heat is the most effective, but like all the best solutions for babies is definitely the most labour intensive).
4. Tired - for our daughter, sleep time is one of the hardest times. We can watch her eyes start to droop, then she likes to scream, then droop, then scream. The solution? Time and lots of jiggling. Our daughter has decided only the left shoulder will do. And Mum or Dad must be standing up. And usually one other requirement that can change daily.
   
5. No Real Reason - some days, it seems, are just better than others and our daughter lets us know which is which by the simple but very efective method of crying. The solution? Not much you can do about this one, just hold her close and rock, joggle, tickle, sing, be quiet, stand up, sit down, go for a walk (I would say go for a drive, but we don't have a car, and as per my notes above, public transport is not the best option for a crying baby!). The best thing is that it stops, but as any parent knows, time slows down when your baby is upset.
   

This is not the most comprehensive list, and the remedies aren't too exhaustive, but are a starting point. I think I just have to realise that my baby. like all babies, is going to cry and that accepting it and loving her is part of parenting.

Two final thoughts that migth help you make it through the next tantrum on public transport.

1. While the buses are carrying signs about not eating smelly food or playing loud music because it disturbs other passengers, at least they haven't outlawed crying babies.
   
2. One of the perks of parenting is that you can always get your own back. Babies don't know what's happening, so can be put in the funniest outfit and positions and are powerless to stop it happening. These can make for great blackmail photos when they get older.
   

Sleeping Babies and Dirty Shirts

Good news as she made a recovery from the immunisation jabs, and is a happy girl once again, and did a new record sleeping session of about six hours last night. In fact, I think she might have made it even longer, but my wife couldn't stand the suspense of waiting for our daughter to cry and woke her up about 4am. I said to her, "waking a sleeping baby, that's not very nice", the reply was mumbled, but along the lines of the boot being on the other foot for a change. Mother seems to have got very cocky now she's out of the dogbox - how quickly they both forget!

It was a real treat to feed my daughter her second ever bottle tonight. Like the first time, there was some confusion about how Dad suddenly had this new ability, but like the first time as well, she was able to put aside these thoughts and concentrate on the milk. It's an amazing feeling to feed her. I used to have pet lambs and calves when growing up back in New Zealand, and it was cool to feed them, but this is a completely new level. Just looking down into her eyes as she's sucking on the bottle makes my heart melt. I can't believe I am truly supposed to be looking after this girl, and when she looks up and smiles or coos it's the best reward I could ever have.

A few days ago I was thinking about how I'm becoming a slummy Dad and every now and then something happens to make me realise how much so. I've been walking around all night with baby vomit on my shirt and didn't even notice until my wife pointed it out. I just don't mind the mess any more, it's part of my daughter and I'm used to it, worst of all I'm expecting it - there's something wrong if she doesn't throw up after feeding. Oh, and before feeding, during feeding, in between feeding . . .

Changing nappies, on the other hand, has never been a problem for me, but I've always hated having sick on my shirt. I'm sure there's something very Freudian about that, but like a cigar can sometimes be just a cigar, a daughter's mess can sometimes jut be a mess, no matter which end it comes out!