Pacifier? What's a pacifier? or Sleep Training Nights 2 & 3

On Saturday afternoon, Matt was with Kalina when she caught a glimpse of her nighttime pacifier on a shelf. She started cooing really excitedly. "Look, Dad!" she gurgled. "It's my pacifier! I found it! Now we can quit this silliness of making me fall asleep without it, right? What a relief!"

Poor baby! We told her that in exchange for her pacifier she'd be learning valuable lifetime lessons about how to fall asleep on her own that would contribute not only to her health and happiness, but to her brain's ability to learn. So when she discovers a cure for cancer 30-some years down the road that sets her up for life, maybe then she can have her pacifier back. Should we press it in the baby book for her?

Saturday night was fairly similar to Friday night, except the early hours were a little more interrupted than we all would've liked. 3:30 and on have always been difficult for Kalina.

Last night, however, not a single tear was shed! The only incident was that she woke up around 1:20, presumably wanting to be fed. Matt and I had stupidly decided last night that we may or may not wait to feed her depending on when she woke, and Matt would potentially comfort her in the meantime. Seeing Matt stirring beside me and not wanting to make the decisions on my own, I asked him what we should do. "Let's wait until one hundred," he said. "One hundred? That's not a time." "I'm half asleep. Feed her at 4:30." I was thinking 2:00 would be much more reasonable, but fortunately Kalina saved me the trouble of communicating this to my sleep-drugged husband by falling back asleep. Matt did, by the way, remember the conversation this morning.

But the big news from last night is that we're pretty sure we're officially and finally down to 1 feeding! As an added treat, Kalina slept in until 6:45!

For some reason, instead of feeling delighted I was a bit sad. I over-analyzed the reason for her lack of crying and rather pessimistically decided it was because she didn't think we cared anymore. I still can't shake that feeling, but I'm also satisfied that we're averaging only 3-4 wakeups per night (down from about 80-85). I just hope the baby has the good sense to cry loudly if there's a cat on her face or something.*

At this morning's nap, poor Kalina experienced her first-ever insomnia. It took her 30 minutes to fall asleep. The time was punctuated with short bouts of crying, and I could relate: which of us hasn't felt like screaming sometimes when we're tired but can't sleep? I would've offered her a book and a flashlight, but reasoned that she probably wouldn't like the taste. Instead I took a shower, glad that even if Kalina cried continually, I could easily finish the shower in the 7 minutes I had before I was supposed to check on her.

Although we're still hoping to get down to just 1 wakeup per night, we're considering sleep training a success so far. This chapter is officially closed unless there's anything further to report. Rumor has it I might even stop complaining about lack of sleep every time anyone asks me how the baby is doing. I bet you're as excited as I am!

*As a side note, once we consider sleep training "done," we'll be sure not to wait long before checking on the baby, just in case.

Air raid sirens in my head, or Sleep Training: Night 1

Moms are programmed so that when the baby cries, it sounds to them as if World War III is upon us. We know in our minds that, in fact, World War III is not actually happening (at least as a result of our baby crying), but we can't help looking over our shoulders for atomic bombs when our babies burst into tears. That is why we may seem a bit uptight when the baby is fussy.

I'm sure you can understand, then, that I haven't been keen on cry-it-out methods of sleep training. Kalina has been so young, so helpless. Could I really let her sob for hours on end, alone in the darkness?

The answer became a resounding yes when my exhaustion tolerance was reached after Thursday night--a night that began with insomnia (since I'd gotten a good 2 1/2-hour stretch the night before) and ended with me getting up every 15 minutes until Matt took pity on me around 6:00 a.m. No more, I said. Nobody is sleeping well, least of all the poor baby.

It finally seemed better to find a way in which we could all get a little more rest. It's in Kalina's best interest, after all. How is her mind supposed to grow and develop if she's not sleeping? How can she even function (these questions I asked of myself as well)? And she'll be fine.

So last night we kicked off the real sleep training. None of this no-cry stuff, which neither of us ended up having the patience for and didn't seem to be working anyway. We decided that the pacifier was a major stumbling block for her, and also that she was eating too often (as many as 4 times in one night recently). Through a process so complicated we needed to write it down on a clipboard and quiz each other on, we decided to take away the pacifier cold turkey, get her stabilized at 2 feedings and eventually get her down to 1 feeding and then later an amazing 0. We decided on the Ferber method, which allows frantic parents to check on the frantic baby every so often.

I was miserable the entire day yesterday. I tried to prepare Kalina for what I knew was ahead by getting her used to sleeping without the pacifier as best I could. After I tucked my sweet baby in for her last scream-free nap around 4:30, I went downstairs and quietly freaked out. Could a baby really cry 11 hours straight? I wondered. I doubted it would work at all.

Matt gave me a pep talk, as did many websites I found through my good friend Google. I ignored, of course, the guilt-laden ones that said I was cruel and insensitive and that it's silly to try to sleep train this early because they're going through so much it won't do any good. I read how to quickly and quietly clean up any vomit present without doing much to disturb the baby.

I baked brownies, because I knew they might come in handy.

And finally the time came. The screams came. Matt did the first check, and then turned off the monitor and headed upstairs. I was to stay downstairs and try not to listen. But who doesn't hear air-raid sirens?

Then the crying stopped. What? Seven minutes into it? Does the baby know that if she'd just screamed 1 more minute she would've earned another visit from one of us? Matt turned up the monitor and we both listened to her breathe.

We promised each other it'd be worse in the middle of the night--after all, we're not going to get through this without a little hazing--and eventually headed off to bed ourselves.

Sure enough, the 11:45 wakeup came along. Instead of rushing to the nursery (and back to bed, and back to the nursery, etc.) as usual to spend my next 45 minutes or so getting the baby back to sleep, I stayed warm and cozy, albeit on edge, because you never know about those atomic bombs. Eight minutes later, peace once again filled the house.

After eating at a generous 1:45, Kalina slept comfortably through until 5:37--her second feeding that the night before had been her fourth instead. She was then up for the day at her usual 6:15 and she even smiled all morning, as if we hadn't been perfectly willing to let her cry the entire night. Please remind me to delete this blog before she's a teenager.

The naps so far have gone just as well if not better.

Is the elusive good night of sleep, which I haven't seen since April, finally in sight? I'll keep you posted.

Coming to a bookstore near you

Matt and I are proud to announce that Kalina's first bestseller will be hitting the shelves sometime next week. We couldn't be happier. Her book has been the product of several weeks' intense struggle and we're thrilled to see this difficult, yet exciting, period coming to an end.

At least that's what must be happening, right?

In all my Google searches the past few weeks, one of the most valuable things I've learned is that while babies are working on some sort of keen new development, their sleeping and eating habits go berserk. There's a method to the madness and certainly a madness to the method.

So Matt and I can only conclude, based on the fact that my days and nights with Kalina have been rather berserk indeed that Kalina must be either winning the Nobel prize (which we ruled out due to the timing) or writing some masterwork of fiction. We're looking forward to reading it.

After all, the only other thing the baby has seemed to be working on lately is blowing raspberries, and if all this madness is simply for a silly mouth noise I'm going to throw in the towel. She can't even do it right yet.

In case you haven't noticed, we're also increasingly confident that our child is a super-genius. We were hoping for a calm, cool B student (having been awkward A students ourselves) but instead we'll probably be sending her off to Harvard when she's 12. Poor girl.

We have our reasons. For one, she can't be bothered by simple baby toys. As if to let us know she's already advanced far beyond them, she often stares off into space no matter what cool things we surround her with. We're sure she's busy contemplating the quantum mechanics of her exersaucer or something.

She also already knows all her vowels, and has invented her own language out of them, although the words are mostly variations on "I'm bored again" "I'm hungry," "But I don't want to sleep" and "Hold me."

And then there are all her night wakings. She must be squirming in her swaddle because she can't quite reach a pen to write down her latest big idea for how to solve the global food crisis.

She's a busy baby indeed.

And while Kalina's slept decent stretches at night twice in the past week, signifying that this turmoil inside our sweet little girl's mind might be drawing to a peaceful, if temporary, close, we know we're not out of the woods yet. After all, there will be publicity tours and book signings to keep her schedule busy through the holidays.

Not my responsibility anymore?

Today in church, we dedicated Kalina to God.

Whew, I thought in the middle of last night's gauntlet of wakings and feedings. I'll be glad to finally get some help.

Unfortunately, as God is not a woman, the help will likely be of a less concrete kind, and more of a "support" role, but I still greatly value it.

We chose God (in a Christian sense), as opposed to the various gods in existence, because we believe in Him as the only true one. Not only that, but we believe our faith in Jesus is vital. So although some would have us, instead, adopt a more open-minded approach, we think that would be akin to leaving poor Kalina in the middle of New York City alone and without so much as a guidebook, let alone a nice taxi driver to give her a lift. She's in good hands with this particular Taxi Driver because we already know he's the most loving and merciful one there is (these both come in handy during endless diaper changes, as well as other potentially messier situations in the future). Of course, the whole purpose of a dedication is to express our intent--it has nothing to do with what Kalina will choose, and she'll have to make her own decision someday. Choose wisely, Baby!

We admit that there were several secondary reasons to dedicating Kalina. For one, there's a page in her baby book entitled Spiritual Celebrations. Now we'll be able to fill it out and add a picture. What's more, my upbringing insisted that Kalina be dressed with the utmost cuteness for such an event, so I got to head to Target and buy her a new dress for the occasion.

I was happy, but not surprised, to see that Kalina was the cutest child being dedicated at today's service.

Poor Matt, being a responsible dad, volunteered to be the one to say the little speech about our intentions. We all won when the cute little girl next to Kalina started grabbing at her, making 1.) the audience laugh so no one heard Matt's speech (he was thrilled) 2.) Kalina less bored and squirmy in my arms 3.) me happy because my baby then ended up being one of the memorable ones (yes, I'm quite the proud mommy).

Afterward, it was off to the Cry Room for me and Kalina. It's not that she was crying--she was just antsy and occasionally vocal--but the Cry Room accepts all kinds. It's fast become one of my favorite places to take her.

Basically, it's a small (sometimes too small) soundproof box where parents can listen to the sermon despite their children's best efforts to the contrary. But that's not all that goes on in the cry room. It's a veritable marketplace of conversation, advice and all-too-common comparisons, including the silent "my baby is cuter than any other in this room (we all think it, right?)" and "why is the 5-month-old next to us sitting quietly on his mother's lap while my 4 1/2-year-old insists on doing the hokey pokey?"

Of course, before any chatting can go on, you have to determine whether the mother next to you approves of talking during the sermon. After a series of sneaky sidelong peeks, eye contact is made and the two never-fail standard starter questions are whispered: "How old is your baby and what's her name?" Then you're free to talk. Or not talk, if you'd still rather listen to the sermon.

I like the room because it's a place other than my living room to entertain the baby and as an added bonus, I get to listen to the sermon or meet other moms. Kalina kind of likes the room. As long as there aren't too many people and they aren't too scary, she enjoys watching the activity. But one baby too many and she gets a little shy.

I realized that instead of shifting the responsibility to God in a "she's yours now!" sense, today's dedication instead puts a greater responsibility on Matt and I. Should we have waited until we're all sleeping better at night? However, as the whole congregation publicly and vocally agreed to help out, we're glad to see that we have a much larger babysitting pool than we did a day ago. Maybe God's help will be concrete after all.

(By the way, we really are taking this very seriously. We don't mean to offend in any way by our candor!)

And special thanks to Uncle Tom for the videography!

The bright side

Fortunately, it's in my nature, once I get done freaking out, to look on the bright side. So despite the fact that I see every hour on the clock throughout the night, I can no longer follow recipes, I get winded walking up the stairs, and playing with brightly colored objects that rattle is now just about the perfect activity to challenge my mind, I'm going to look on the bright side of sleep deprivation.

Mainly, the fact that the reason I'm not sleeping is likely because Kalina is traveling through a rather massive developmental spurt.

Really, she's pretty amazing nowadays. And the cool thing about being a sometimes-work-at-home-but-mostly-stay-at-home mom is that I see all of it. This makes my conversation somewhat boring to most normal people as I gush about how Kalina rolled not once, but twice, complete with play-by-play ("And then I came back into the room, and she was on her back!!! Can you believe it?!?"). They smile politely and try to change the subject. Pet owners, fortunately, can relate somewhat. "Really? Rover rolls, too!" "How did you train him to roll over on command?" "This neat whistle, want me to show you?" "Where can I get a whistle?"

A couple weeks ago Kalina started to stand with help. Now, it's fun to see that her joy and pride over this accomplishment have turned into nonchalance. "Um, I've been standing for weeks now, just like you guys. A little credit, please. I can do way cooler things than this," her glazed-over eyes seem to say as she munches on her hand.

She also almost sits without help, for as many as 5-10 seconds at a time. She does so well during those 5-10 seconds that I kind of start to forget that she can't actually sit yet. Then she starts to slowly tip over, and I have to rush to catch her. It's startling for both of us, but I think she likes sitting overall because it gives her better access to her toys.

Speaking of toys, Kalina munches them with a vengeance (see video). It's actually a little unsettling how she likes to tear into things nowadays (and she doesn't stop at toys--Mommy's hair and Daddy's nose have both been targets). Let's just say I wouldn't want to meet her alone in a dark alley. She's very serious about her play--she seems to be the frustrated artist type about it. If her mouth grip isn't perfect, she gets angsty but tries again with determination. I imagine she'll be the type to color in the lines, and make sure the other kids do, too.

And then there's the laughing. I think it's worth losing at least an hour of sleep a night for, although I'm still deciding just how much sleep I'd trade for her laughter. Before Kalina started laughing, I used to think she was this really selective critic--sometimes it was beyond my repertoire and budget to get her to crack a smile. Now I know she's not, seeing as she got the biggest kick out of Matt doing a one-person wave (think baseball stadium) the other night. I'm relieved to know that I won't have to develop complex comedy routines or hire professionals just to entertain my child, as I previously worried.

Did I mention she rolled twice in a row? I put her on her tummy and left the room briefly. And then I came back into the room and Kalina was on her back!!! Can you believe it?!? The reason this is so exciting is that she's hated tummy time for so much of her life that I'm thrilled to see the end is approaching (as much for me as for her). I don't think she understands these implications, though, as she seems to be in no hurry to roll again.

As for me, I've found a few personal bright sides as well. For one, while I'm doing chores or cooking dinner, I occasionally look up and ask myself why in the world I'm so tired. Then it hits me: I don't sleep anymore. So I quickly put an end to whatever I'm doing and hightail it to the couch, no guilt involved. The other bright side is that if I do ever sleep as many as 2 hours in a row, I feel like Rip Van Winkle.

So I'm almost at peace with the fact that neither of us is getting any sleep. Although now I wonder what she'd be able to do if she were sleeping. Today, the exersaucer, tomorrow, the world, I suppose. Maybe next month?

On the importance of a good breakfast cereal

I've discovered recently that Fruity Cheerios is about $1 cheaper at my local Target than at my local grocery store. This is important because other than Kalina's cries, Fruity Cheerios are the only thing that get me up some mornings. I like the fact that they're whole-grain and healthy-ish, yet pleasing to the eye and palate with a delicious array of flavors and colors.

That's right, this is the long-awaited "I'm not getting any sleep" post.

I've tried to avoid writing this post as long as possible. I think it's in poor taste to complain publicly about not getting any sleep when you have a new baby. At the same time, I'd planned by now to be able to write a triumphant "the baby slept through the night!" post, and since that's about as far off as Kalina's retirement party, this is my consolation.

At the risk of sounding grumpy, I won't bore you with the details--I'll just say that Kalina used to sleep much better and now, in addition to two meals, she's decided on an "I just want to see Mommy" awakening that often happens just as I'm first drifting off to sleep for the night. Add in a few "oops, my pacifier fell out and now I need it again, please" wakings and the fact that I sleep through nothing and you'll see why I haven't posted in a week.

The real purpose of this post is not to complain about lack of sleep, but to kick off Kalina's official sleep training boot camp.

Don't worry--we're sending her to a rather posh one that doesn't allow cry-it-out methods. In fact, we're hoping she never has to cry it out, seeing as none of us would enjoy that very much.

In asking Google what the general consensus is on 4-month-old sleep, I found answers ranging from "4-month-olds sleep terribly and there's nothing you can do" to the ever-so-helpful "my 4-month-old has been sleeping through the night for weeks."

Therefore, I ended up consulting a book that now seems like the worst of both worlds: you can help your baby sleep longer, and potentially through the night, but it's going to take a lot of effort and in the meantime you'll all get less sleep.

We just started. You're supposed to wait 10 days before evaluating your progress. Ten days, by the way, is eternity (see my "Pregnancy timeline" post). And although we're only a couple nights into it, we're already slacking, questioning our intentions and rethinking goals and methods. We're wondering if maybe it wouldn't just be easier to go with the flow. Is this a prelude to our future parenting skills? (Or lack thereof?) We attribute the slacking to the fact that our baby is "different." She is--have I mentioned we can already tell she's a genius? So she certainly won't respond to ordinary sleep-training methods. Right?

Of course, there's always the chance that she'll develop the ability to sleep longer at night on her own. Please.

If there's anything interesting that comes out of this, you can be sure I'll keep you posted.

Meanwhile, I should say that Kalina is actually an excellent napper. Maybe too good: could it be she's simply napping through the night? Only time will tell. Thank goodness for Fruity Cheerios.

Flowers aren't scary

Odegaard baby is flower for Halloween

The mood in the Odegaard household was light and festive last night as 4-month-old Kalina Odegaard, resident baby, celebrated her first Halloween.

"I was really excited about Halloween this year," said Mary Odegaard, a.k.a. Mommy. "After all, who wouldn't want to bring their cute baby around to friends' and neighbors' houses to collect both compliments and candy? It was a no-brainer for us."

Kalina mentioned she'd decided to be a flower about two months before on a shopping trip with Aunt Nancy.

"Flowers signify a fresh beginning, graceful beauty and in this particular costume's case, soft cuteness," Kalina said. "What's more, my name means flower. Really, it was the only logical choice this Halloween."

And those weren't the only reasons Kalina liked her flower costume. "Now that I'm using my hands more and more, I like to hold the petals, and kind of try to eat them," she added.

However, being a flower wasn't just a matter of making the decision: a costume had to be found. When the big-box retail store didn't have Kalina's size, Baby and Mommy were admittedly quite worried.

"Freaked, really, is what they were. The house was in a frenzy for at least a few hours, but I can see why--the costume is pretty cute," commented Matt Odegaard, a.k.a. Daddy.

Fortunately for all concerned, Kalina's paternal grandmother got word of the situation and shipped the costume in the correct size to the household.

"I was so relieved, you can't imagine! It's a dream come true," raved Kalina. "Thank you, Grandma!"

The baby girl donned the flower costume in the early evening hours of Halloween.

"I wanted to wear it all day, but Mommy wouldn't let me," Kalina complained.

"I wanted her to wear it all day, as well, but the large petals would've gotten in the way of pretty much everything we do on a daily basis," responded the girl's Mommy.

Instead, they waited until Daddy got home from work. After taking pictures, life went on as normal until trick-or-treating began.

Kalina was happy to find that most of the people who saw her understood the deep symbolism of her costume.

"I heard words such as 'cute' and 'flower.' I think they got it!" Kalina exclaimed.

Although the Odegaard family actually only brought home two pieces of candy in the end, they received no trick-or-treaters themselves and will therefore be snacking on the candy they bought for the neighborhood kiddies.