Mission: Crib

When we first brought Roger home and tried to get him to sleep in his crib right off the bat, the whole ordeal was a disaster. After a couple weeks of sleepless nights spent diligently walking laps around the house and rocking in the rocking chair until it was hitting the wall behind it, we accepted the fact that the only way any of us - Roger included - were going to get any sleep was to move him into our room. Roger's first night in the cradle next to the bed, he slept like a rock. The very first night. It almost seemed too easy.

Given that we had never really planned on ever having Roger sleep in our room in the first place, we had to set an "end date" to the cradle and decided that when the little guy was 3 months old would be a good time to revisit the crib situation. This past Wednesday was D-Day. November 17. The day Roger turned 3 months old. By now, he's sleeping through the night with no problem. It's been well over a month since I stopped waking him up every few hours for a feeding during the night thereby rendering the cradle unnecessary. I had promised Matt that Roger would be out of our room and in his nursery - it was something we had BOTH agreed on together, as parents.

But when Wednesday rolled around, I found myself completely unprepared for the emotions that overwhelmed me. I didn't want Roger to go sleep in his room. His presence in the cradle next to my side of the bed was a measure of comfort for me. I liked that if he fussed a little in his sleep, I simply had to roll over and reach my hand in the cradle to give his belly a reassuring rub or to replace his lost pacifier. I had become so attached to the idea of Roger being right there, I wasn't ready for him to make the move to his room. I protested rather heartily when Matt put him to bed in his crib Wednesday night. I checked about a billion times to make absolutely positively SURE that the baby monitor was working. I woke up over ever little stir that came over the baby monitor. At about 1 a.m. I went and got him, bringing him into his cradle so that I could get a good night sleep since I had to work Thursday morning (on a side note, I'm blessed enough that Roger is able to go to work with me, incase the question arose about how I could tear myself away from him during the work day but not at night while I'm sleeping). I felt a little bad for breaking under pressure so easily. I had been concerned that Roger would be the one who'd give us difficulties when we moved him into his own room, but as it turns out, it was me.

I was a bit more prepared last night when I put Roger to bed in his crib. Though I did check on him numerous times (only to find him sprawled out and sleeping peacefully), I did eventually put my faith in the baby monitor and fall asleep. And Roger slept soundly the whole night through. It didn't make a different to HIM that he was in a new place. For all I know, he was probably a lot more comfortable in his nice big crib. The point is, we both (well, me in particular) survived our first night apart. And I suppose sooner or later this day would have to come. Undoubtedly the longer we waited the more difficult it would have become for him to accept that little modicum of independence of which infants are capable. I don't know what I expected - it's not like he could sleep in his little cradle next to the bed till the day he left for college.

I thought the revisitation to the crib mission would be a replay of the first few weeks with Roger screaming in protest the second his butt hit the crib mattress, but it wasn't at all. Roger readily and willingly accepted his new bed. He really does seem to like it better. Rather, it was me who made the bigger deal of the issue. I'll miss the little monster sleeping soundly right by me. I know it'll take a few more nights (or longer) till I'm accustomed to him being in his own room, but ultimately, this is for the best. Our little man is growing up...

On Schedule vs. On Demand

Breastfeeding is one of the things about early motherhood that is definitely about trial and error - you learn what works for you as you go along. Thankfully we haven't encountered any enormous problems with breastfeeding, and after reading countless books and browsing through numerous La Leche League forums (etc) and taking a breastfeeding class prior to Roger's birth, I was prepared for problems. Seriously. They make it seem like problems are the norm. That's not to say problems aren't normal, but the norm? No. But, I digress.

It seems to be almost universally unanimous that the best possible way to breastfeed your baby is "on demand" (i.e. feed them when they're hungry). And honestly, it's a great idea in theory: baby's hungry, feed baby. I feel I'm probably giving myself quite a stigma by admitting that I breastfeed on a schedule, but for both Roger and I, this works quite well.

When Roger was first born, I was feeding him every 2-3 hours just like the books, internet forums, and class told me to do. He actually went closer to 3 hours before he started getting a bit fidgety; perhaps I was able to get away with more lengthy times between feedings because he was a bit heavier at birth? I don't know, but theories abound... By the time he was two months old, he was sleeping through the night, so I stopped waking him up to feed him. They (books, internet, class) said initially you should be feeding baby about 8 - 10 times a day, so now that Roger was sleeping through the night, I figured this meant I had to make up "missed" feedings during the day, so I found myself quite literally force feeding him breast milk about every 2 hours. I thought I was interpreting "hunger cues" like I was supposed to so it was somewhat frustrating that most of our breastfeeding sessions involved a lot of crying (on both our parts) and a great deal of spewing out milk (just Roger).

After much frustration, I abandoned the idea of feeding my baby on demand. It wasn't working for us. He doesn't root. Ever. He did maybe the first couple weeks of his life and every now and again I'll see him do it if I decide to change his diaper before feeding him first thing in the morning. I'm told sucking on his fist is a hunger cue. Well, he sucks on his fist constantly. Minutes after feeding him, he'll have his fist shoved in his mouth. Lip smacking? Yeah, he doesn't do that either. He's generally a happy baby - he cries very little and when he does, it's usually because he's craving some love and cuddles. Besides, it wouldn't be fair (or nice) to Roger if I made crying his hunger cue because it's the only decipherable one.

The only feeding that's NOT scheduled is the first a.m. feeding, which usually takes place between 4 and 5. Then he eats every 3 hours (8:30 is the first scheduled time, then 11:30, 2:30 etc) for however long he wants. He only eats 6 times a day, which you may be shaking your head at, but he's gaining weight well and is otherwise perfectly healthy - in fact, he's even a bit on the large size for a 3-month old. So scheduled feeding it is. Until, of course, he goes through a growth spurt and throws a stick in the spokes of my schedule, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there.

My Mommy Must-Have

For my baby shower I received an Infantino 6-in-1 carrier. I thought it was great until Roger was actually born and I actually tried to use it. It was (pardon my asterisks) a complete piece of sh**. Getting him in it was like trying to solve a MENSA riddle and once he was successfully in place, well, let's just say he was neither happy nor did he look very cozy. It kind of felt like I was torturing him on some level, so after another hour (okay, I'm exaggerating) to get him out of the damn thing, I was a little disheartened. The baby carrier seems like such a great idea in theory. The babies in the pictures on the box looked so happy, but honestly, whoever designed this baby carrier must not have been thinking clearly. It's like those horrible footie pajamas that only have buttons down ONE leg. Whoever designed them did NOT have convenience in mind.

My sister-in-law has a Baby Bjorn carrier that she swears by. After our unpleasantries with the Infantino carrier, I wasn't exactly chomping at the bit to try another carrier, especially one with the price tag that the Baby Bjorn has, but I'd seen this carrier in action with my sister-in-law and niece and I wanted THAT kind of carrier. So I forked out the dough and I'm so glad I did because my Baby Bjorn tops my list of my favorite baby "tools."

I use the carrier pretty frequently. I know there are downsides to using it all the time, so I do make a cognizant effort to limit Roger's time in it, but when I DO need it, I'm always glad to have it. When I'm out in public toting the little man around in his Baby Bjorn, I'm surprised by the amount of people who ask me if I'm worried he'll "fall out." Roger's by no means SMALL for a 2-month old. Sometimes I get raised eyebrows when I tell people he's only 2-months old, but even when he was born, he never would've been small enough to "fall out" of a baby carrier. He was quite an enormous baby compared to the others in the nursery... Regardless, it's not like I'm walking on my hands with him in the carrier which is just about the only feasible way I could see him falling out it. He'd have to lose a LOT of weight to slip through a leg hole. Not to mention baby carriers and slings have been around about as long as babies have been around: a long time (not to mention that anything that could cause harm to a baby is typically recalled in a hurry). I guess I just have more faith in the way these things were designed.

My favorite use for the baby carrier is the ease of transportation it's given me in public. One day Roger will be able to hold his head up and he'll be able to sit in the shopping cart or I can just prop him on my hip while I run into a store for an errand, but until that day, it is nothing short of a pain in the ass to lug him around in his car seat. If it's going to be a long trip (i.e. grocery shopping or a trip to the mall for Mommy), I'll use the stroller (or the shopping cart since most are compatible with car seats), but if I just need to run into, say, Subway to buy a sandwich, I feel a bit awkward going through the process of pulling the stroller out for such a short trip and even more awkward standing in line holding the car seat.

At home I use it for soothing purposes. When Roger cries inconsolably, carrying him is usually the solution. When he wants to be carried for prolonged periods of time... enter the Baby Bjorn. My favorite part of the carrier is that it's designed to enable a parent to remove a sleeping baby without waking him (not even a remote possibility with the Infantino carrier). So if he falls asleep during his carrier time (which he's been known to do), transferring him to a more suitable location for sleeping is a breeze. Thankfully he doesn't sleep TOO much in it. He seems to thoroughly enjoy checking the world out from the comfort of his carrier - I can't wait till I'm able to stick him in it face-out. I know he's going to love it.

The learning curve for becoming a parent has been a fun one (discovering things that work for you and your baby is a good feeling). Our next step is transferring Roger to his crib for night sleeping, BUT that's a post for another day!

Keeps Going and Going...

As it turns out, motherhood is a mode that has no "off" switch. It hasn't been too difficult for me; Roger is already sleeping through the night (he's had a few 7 hour stretches and last night was his first 8-hour one), and he's a relatively easy-going baby - he just goes with the flow. That's not to say he doesn't have his fits and fussies, but thankfully they're rather easy to decipher. I don't mind other people holding and playing with him - admittedly I do appreciate the break - but I miss him when I'm not the one holding him. I guess one could say I get a little selfish. I have to remind myself that it's important to share; he is, after all, not only my son, but also a grandson, a nephew, a cousin, etc.

I've been running myself into the ground lately and have reached a point where I would actually really appreciate those extra set of hands. I came down with a miserable cold after the Halloween weekend and am finding that it's a lot harder to run on 5 - 6 hours of sleep when you're not 100%. So I finally did what I rarely do and asked for help. I just needed a nap. A recoup. I handed Roger off to his daddy for a couple hours and retired to our room to rejuvenate, but this is where the whole "off" button thing comes into play. You can't turn off being a mommy. My new role is always at the forefront of my mind. I'd start to drift off to sleep, but every time I heard even just the tiniest fuss, my eyes would snap open. It's not that I don't trust Matt. I know he's perfectly capable of and pretty adept at dealing with the little man's not-so-happy moments. I just am not physically or mentally able to NOT be a mom. It's a very strange sensation.

Now my husband has caught my cold too (little Roger's still running healthy though - here's to breastmilk antibodies!). I'm still running a little slow while the remnants of my cold disappear, and now I have a sick husband to deal with (I think dealing with a sick infant would probably be easier... why are all men such babies when it comes to being sick?). When I was younger, I always used to marvel at how EARLY my parents got up. I was able and willing to sleep the entire morning away and thought my parents were nuts for getting up with the sun. Even well into my 20s (and basically right up until the third trimester), I was a big fan of sleep. I finally get it now. I get up at about 4:30 or 5 now (depending on when Roger eats) because it is, quite literally, the only time I have to myself. Nights after Roger goes to bed are Matt and Erika time. Mornings before Roger wakes up are Erika time. I get 5, sometimes 6 (if I'm lucky) hours of sleep a night, and everything inbetween is work, Roger, cleaning the house, Roger, running errands, Roger... I am a mom. I have NO idea how I'm going to squeeze school into the schedule when I go back in January.

Halloween was a blast. Matt's parents stayed at our house and babysat for us while we went out till the wee hours of the morning (didn't get home till after 2 a.m. which is probably why my cold reared its ugly head... ah, consequences). Even Roger got dressed up for the occasion (albeit briefly). He was less than thrilled about the costume (though everyone else thought it was adorable), so I spent $20 for about 5 minutes worth of pictures. Totally worth it. I can't even believe how BIG he's getting. We had our first set of vaccinations last Tuesday and a well-baby check. He weighs over 12 lbs now (12 lbs 4.5 ozs to be exact) and measures 24 1/4". No one seems to quite believe me when I tell them he's 2-months old (well, nearing 3 now)... He's already wearing 6-month size infant clothes and the 6 - 12 months Halloween costume seemed to fit him pretty good. He's gonna be taller than his daddy :)