Baby, Give Me a Sign

Violet has a lot to say. She’ll chatter animatedly to any available audience . . . she just doesn’t include many recognizable words in her conversation. At 17 months, her verbal vocabulary consists of "mama" and "dada," "hi," "baby," "no," and variations of "cat," "nose," "belly button," "cracker," "I see you," and "Casey" (her favorite friend). But she isn't limited in communicating by language - she can sign!

We started baby sign language with Violet when she was about 7 months old. Initially, we introduced just a few signs associated with her favorite activities: nursing and eating. She picked up the sign for “all done” first (waving her hands away from her body), providing a conclusion to mealtime we much preferred over the previous method of dumping whatever was left on the floor. Next, she added a sign for “drink,” adapting our example of a thumb to the lips to pointing with her index finger at her mouth while tilting her head back.

Other signs, like her sign for “nurse,” she created all on her own. I had been demonstrating a version of the sign for nurse that used a sweeping motion of a flat hand from the shoulder down over the breast, symbolizing letdown. Violet never picked up the sign I showed her, instead coming up with something entirely different: her sign for “nurse” is an index finger pointing into the middle of her opposite palm. Emphatically. It's similar to another version of the sign for "more" - which makes sense since nursing is the one thing she always wans to do more of - but ultimately what sign is used to represent any particular concept doesn’t matter as long as we know what she means.

Signing "sleep."

Recognizing and responding to your child’s needs is a fundamental principle of the AP philosophy; sign language provides our baby an additional tool for expressing those needs when she can’t find the words. It also allows her to tell us about what she’s observing and experiencing – signing “dog” when we pass one on the sidewalk or hear barking outside, signing “hot” to describe her dinner as steam rises off the plate.

Violet has about 20 signs in her regular repertoire now, and she makes good use of each of them. We continue to show her signs for common objects or things she shows a special interest in, letting her decide which she wants to add to her “vocabulary.” Even as she can speak more words, she may continue to pick up additional signs and “talk” to us in a combination of words and signs. Whatever she wants to say, and however she chooses to “say” it, we’re listening.

Adapted from original post at API Speaks, January 8th 2009.

For No-Cry Solutions for Common Parenting Challenges, Check with Elizabeth Pantley

I first encountered the gentle guidance of Elizabeth Pantley when I added The No-Cry Sleep Solution to the stack of books on baby sleep that grew beside my bed during Violet's infancy. As Violet grew, but the length of her sleep sessions did not, I thumbed desperately through its pages in search of a remedy to her restlessness. While in reading it I never discovered the silver bullet I'd hoped to find (I'm not sure there is such thing as a compassionate quick fix for sleep at those stages), what I did take away was what I really needed: reassurance that someday my baby would sleep longer than three quarters of an hour, without our resorting to strategies we weren't comfortable with.

Pantley's approach is the antithesis to perhaps better-known "baby-trainers" like Ferber and Weissbluth - worse yet, Ezzo - who are adamant that every baby is the same and should sleep on the same schedule. Instead, Pantley understands that babies are individuals, and should be respected and responded to as such, even at night. Since she also recognizes that prolonged sleep deprivation can be painful (putting it mildly) for parents, she proposes a plan for helping ease little ones into sleeping longer stretches in a way that the whole family can live with.

Fortunately for the child-centered set, Pantley has provided additional advice on tough topics in her other books: The No-Cry Sleep Solution for Toddlers and Preschoolers; The No-Cry Potty Training Solution; The No-Cry Discipline Solution; and her latest - The No-Cry Nap Solution: Guaranteed Gentle Ways to Solve All Your Naptime Problems. Each of these volumes adds a much-needed AP perspective to conventional parenting literature; I look forward to adding several to my own bookshelf.

The Sleep Saga Goes On . . .

As I was dropping Violet off at daycare one morning last week, I responded to a fellow parent's innocent inquiry as to how I was doing with an honest "I'm tired." Violet, never a sound sleeper, has been even more restless the past few weeks, and it's taken a toll on Eric and me. After a year and half of living with a baby with high nighttime needs, we can withstand a significant sleep deprivation, but the holidays (and the four new teeth that came with them) seemed to amplify our issues. By the second week in January, we were back to the all-night nurse-a-thons we thought we'd left behind months ago.

Historically, Violet’s sleep patterns have been inconsistent enough to give us the occasional reprieve. A few nights of waking to nurse only once or twice could restore us sufficiently to withstand the less peaceful episodes that were sure to follow. But last week we realized we – more accurately I - wasn’t going to be able to ride this most recent regression out. Violet had appointed me her human pacifier, refusing to sleep without being latched on. Though I am more patient as a parent than I ever imagined I could be, I have my limits, and we had reached them.

So when this friendly father said "how are you?" I told him: I'm tired. The adorable, energetic toddler you just saw me waving goodbye to is up at least every hour these days. In my experience, such confessions are often met with a well-intentioned explanation of when and how the person I'm speaking with applied the cry-it-out technique with their own child, and how well they've been sleeping ever since. This conversation was no exception. But while I appreciate the suggestion, and I certainly envy the image of uninterrupted sleep, I'm still not comfortable with the concept of "cry it out."

Eric and I agreed we needed to do something differently, but weren’t willing to resort to letting Violet cry it out alone. Instead, we decided it was time for her to (partially) nightwean. At seventeen months, she no longer needs to nurse for nutrition overnight, and though we hated to remove that source of comfort, her increasing dependence on it was making the family bed unbearable. We were familiar with Dr. Jay Gordon’s gentle approach to nightweaning, and using it as a guide decided to designate the hours of 10 pm – 5 am as “time to sleep,” during which we would offer Violet comfort in any form except nursing.

For a few nights, I left the room when she woke, so as not to further frustrate her. Eric could soothe her in my absence by letting her lay on top of him, but we soon saw that while that was effective at settling her, ultimately we weren't making any progress at getting her to sleep unattached to one of us. Last night, we took the option of Dada's chest off the table, and the nightweaning began in earnest. Denied her two preferred sleep associations, Violet protested first angrily, and eventually with heartbreaking, hiccuping sobs. But as she struggled, we stayed beside her, rubbing her back, singing softly, whispering in her ear. Eventually she fell asleep, nestled between us.

We expect it to take Violet some time to adjust to this new nighttime routine, and we are committed to working through that with her. We also understand that nightweaning may not reduce her nightwaking (though certainly that is the hope). But even if she continues to wake frequently, nightweaning will allow us to identify other ways to soothe her back to sleep that will afford us more flexibility in our nighttime parenting. In the meantime, we'll accept any peacefully sleeping baby vibes sent our direction.

For inspiration:

The Way It's Supposed to Be

I’m lying on my back on a yoga mat in a dimly lit room. At the conclusion of an hour-long class, we are settling into savasana: relaxation pose. The instructor’s voice, soft and low, melts into the new-age music, a smooth melody of soothing as she guides us.

“Relax your hips, your back . . . let them sink into the floor,” she sighs. “Notice your breathing, let each breath be soft, full and easy.”

I inhale slowly through my nose, filling my belly first - and WHOOSH! that air rushes back out as my fifteen month-old daughter bounces all of her twenty-two pounds on my midsection. The instructor’s gentle cues to completely relax are quickly drowned out by our giggles. Violet sits on my stomach, grinning, and bounces again, and I grin right back at her. More giggles ensue. Mommy and Me yoga, much like the rest of motherhood, does not follow a script.

This may be the biggest adjustment I’ve had to make since becoming a mama. I am admittedly Type A; I like things the way they’re supposed to be. I’ve lived most of my adult life the way you’re “supposed to:” following college with law school and a professional career, marrying my like-minded and motivated love along the way. We planned for Violet the way we planned every other part of our lives. We meticulously designed every detail of her nursery, read up on newborn care, and imagined ourselves gazing down lovingly as she cooed in her crib. I even made plans for my maternity leave, assuring a friend from work I’d visit regularly – we’d lunch while my little one snoozed, I told her.

Enter Violet. She had different plans. As an infant, she insisted on being in-arms at all times; she certainly wouldn’t sleep any other way, so the nursery we had worked so hard on remained unoccupied. She needed to nurse nearly every hour around the clock, and during the colicky episodes she suffered almost every evening, we could only comfort her if we stood next to a very loud vacuum cleaner. I had lunch with my friend only once, and not at the park as we’d planned, but in my living room, where she found me desperate and bedraggled, a newborn wrapped to my chest. There were a lot of tears those first few months, and many of them were mine. This, I thought, was definitely not the way it was supposed to be.

I struggled with this new chaotic existence, flailed and fought to force it into some semblance of order. Although I was with my daughter all the time, and doing all the things for her I believed I should - nursing her on demand, responding to her cries, keeping her physically close - my preoccupation with regaining control over my world kept me from being truly present in much of it. Often I was too busy formulating our next sleep strategy to appreciate each of her soft sighs as she snuggled into my neck. Something had to change. I didn’t want to miss any more of my baby’s babyhood wishing it away.

Eventually I realized that what needed to change was me. I wanted to give my daughter what she most deserved, and I hadn’t yet been able to offer: my presence. I began making a conscious effort when I was with her to stop my mind from racing ahead to the next ten things I needed to do. I focused instead on letting go of what I thought should be and simply being in the moment. It’s an effort I must renew every day. It isn’t always easy, but it is absolutely worth it; I have enjoyed so much with my daughter I might otherwise have missed.

I am still the same person in many ways; I still like lists and schedules, logic and analysis. And there is a place for all that in parenting, but I now know that the most important parts of motherhood can’t be planned. Life, like our yoga routine, may not proceed as I originally envisioned, but the way it is . . . well, that’s exactly the way it’s supposed to be.

This post was originally submitted as an entry in the API Speaks AP Month essay contest. It was voted the #2 favorite, scoring me a one year membership to Attachment Parenting International, and an excerpt will be featured in the Spring 2009 issue of the Attached Family magazine. Thanks to all who voted!

Think About It

The decisions we make for our daughter today may affect her for a lifetime in more ways than one, which, in my opinion, makes them some of the most important and far-reaching we will ever be faced with. And yet, it seems that many people are willing to put more time into researching vacation destinations or what car to buy than into questions like what to feed their children (and why) or whether or not to vaccinate them, and if so how (selectively? delayed? or according to the standard schedule?).

It’s easy to defer to other people with some authority – real or perceived – especially on such intimidating subjects. The pediatrician, the self-proclaimed “expert” author of a popular book, or even our parents might offer an easy answer. Certainly following their advice is convenient, and provides a sense of assurance that we made the “right” choice. But while other people can contribute valuable information to the analysis, ultimately the responsibility for decisions made for our daughter rests with me and my husband. It’s a responsibility we take seriously, and not one we’re willing to delegate.

That parenting should be a conscious and thoughtful process is very much a part of the AP philosophy. Every child is different, and there is no one-size-fits-all approach that will work for each of them. Accordingly, the principles of attachment parenting don’t prescribe specific techniques or conclusions for most issues parents must consider, but rather reminds them to educate themselves and make informed choices about what’s best for their children instead of simply accepting conventional parenting practices without question. My best AP friend and I may have ultimately made different decisions about which vaccinations our kids would receive - or whether they’d receive them at all - but both were made after careful consideration of our individual children and circumstances and with all the information we could reasonably collect. What’s important is not necessarily the final determination, but the thoughtful inquiry and awareness that led to it.

My husband and have been accused of over-thinking many of the decisions we make for our daughter; I’ve been known to plow through several sources on a subject before I’m ready to settle on a course of action (my personal parenting library definitely reflects which issues I struggle with the most). It’s been pointed out to me that “not everyone reads as much as you do.” True. But we’re not talking about curling up with a glass of wine and a good novel here. We’re talking about the choices we’re making for our child. Shouldn’t those merit a certain amount of attention from parents?

Originally posted at API Speaks, November 10, 2008.

Celebrate Babywearing! International Babywearing Week

November 12 – 18 is the first annual International Babywearing Week – what better time to tout the benefits of babywearing? People in all sorts of cultures have worn babies for centuries. It’s a rewarding practice, for both kids and caregivers, not just emotionally but practically; without my Hug-A-Bub wrap carrier and Rockin’ Baby pouch, I might never have gotten out of the recliner the first few months of Violet’s life.

Babies thrive on closeness and human contact, and many are distressed without it. “Babywearing” – carrying your baby next to your body in some sort of cloth carrier – can be a tremendous source of comfort to a newborn. A baby carrier mimics the womb in many ways; rhythmic sounds like the wearer’s heartbeat and breath echo the baby’s experience in utero, and the gentle motion of the wearer’s walking feels just like old times. Going for a walk wearing Violet never failed to lull her to sleep in the early days. Even now, she’ll succumb if she’s tired and we’ve been walking awhile.

Sure, there are other accessories available for containing your kid or toting her around. But a cloth carrier keeps your baby close to you, instead of at arm’s length. I’m not sure when the Western notion that babies should be content to be left lying alone - whether in a crib, a swing, or a bouncer - 75% of their infancy became so commonly and casually accepted, but I’ve got to admit I don’t agree with it. (Neither does most of the rest of the world.) More importantly, that wasn’t what my baby needed, and she wasn’t afraid to tell me so. Violet protested pretty much any time she wasn’t in someone’s arms, so it was fortunate we were enthusiastic about wearing her; I had our coat rack covered with a wrap, 2 pouches and a ring sling even before she was born. She was in the Hotsling just hours after we brought her home, where she snoozed in a cradlehold while I tried to keep crumbs from our favorite pizza off of her forehead.

In addition to calming her in infancy, wearing Violet has allowed us to share so much with her. In a carrier, she can watch whatever we’re doing and we can interact easily. Recently, she rode in the ring sling as we browsed the farmer’s market, and her position on my hip allowed her to see so much more than she could have seen through the legs of all the other locals out that Saturday morning had she been in a stroller (it was much easier for me to maneuver, as well). It also gave us a much better opportunity to snuggle as we shopped, pointing out fruits and vegetables and anything else that caught our eyes. Because she can walk now, she spends less time in a carrier, but I look forward to wearing her on occasion for some time to come. We’ve got a Connecta carrier I’m looking forward to using for back carries with our Peekaru this winter!

As good as I believe babywearing has been for Violet, I feel compelled to point out that the benefits of babywearing aren’t all baby’s – for the parent, babywearing can provide you a great way to carry your baby (or toddler!) without wearing out your arms and wrecking the rest of your body because the carrier supports the baby’s weight and distributes it more evenly (something my neck, shoulders, and back were always grateful for). Even better, babywearing allows you to keep your baby close, but your hands free. Much can be accomplished while wearing a baby, from catching up on emails to cooking dinner!

For those interested in, and perhaps unfamiliar with, babywearing, TheBabyWearer.com is a fantastic resource (a permanent link can be found in the left sidebar). And if you’re patient, I’m planning to share more about specific types and brands of carriers we’ve tried in future posts. Happy International Babywearing Week!

Don't Forget to Vote!

No, this post isn't going up a week too late. The election may be over, but the API Attachment Parenting Month Photo and Essay contest polls are open until November 30. In the spirit of AP Month this October, I entered both. My photo (the shot of Eric and Violet at a wedding in September, above) wasn't selected as a finalist, but my essay is in the running. (I'll give you a hint: it's Essay #1.) Cast a vote for your favorite photo and essay on the theme "Giving Our Children Presence" here!

I've decided that though my photo submission for the contest may not have made it to the final four, I like it enough that a copy is going to go up in my office soon. While you're voting, how about helping me decide which version: the original color, or black and white? Leave your vote in the comments below.

We Can Do This In Our Sleep! Being Present All Through the Night

Nightime has confronted us with some of the most challenging parenting moments we’ve faced so far, but being present for our now 14 month old daughter at three in the morning is just as important as it is at any more reasonable hour. Though it isn’t always as easy, or as pleasant, as engaging her in a silly song, or reading Counting Kisses again, she doesn’t stop needing us when the sun goes down.

Our nighttime parenting has evolved in response to our daughter’s needs – and our fumbling attempts to meet them.The day she was born, she never left our arms until after midnight, when we laid her carefully in the plastic bassinet the hospital provided before turning in ourselves. As we gazed down at our brand new baby girl, she spit up a little, and we froze at the terrifying idea that she could choke while we slept. Without further ado, I scooped her up and climbed into the bed, where she slept in my arms, nursing on and off the rest of the night.

When we brought her home the next day, we carefully attached an Arm’s Reach Cosleeper to our bed, eager for her to sleep close to us. We were aware of the benefits of co-sleeping– including decreased risk of SIDS – and the Cosleeper made us feel more comfortable about sleeping next to a newborn. But the first time we lowered our sleeping infant onto its thin mattress she awoke immediately, howling in protest. We tried again, gently easing her from our bodies to this space where we had intended for her to sleep, but she made it clear she had other ideas.

And so the Cosleeper was relegated to serving as a makeshift nightstand until its eventual relocation to storage in the basement, and we began the process of trying to determine how to help our baby sleep. As a newborn, she slept best semi-upright on our chests, so for several weeks (or maybe it was months? it all runs together now) we took turns sleeping with her in the overstuffed recliner I’d grudgingly come to love during the last months of my pregnancy. When she was five weeks old, we discovered she was suffering from acid reflux, which explained her profound discomfort at lying flat on her back. But even after she outgrew the reflux at about four months, we still couldn’t seem to coax her to sleep for any significant length of time.

We made sure she wore comfortable pjs, was clean and dry, and had a belly full of breastmilk before bedtime each night. We tried putting her down in her crib and in her swing, with white noise and without, swaddled and unswaddled, on her back and on her side, with the nightlight on and off. And each time, about an hour after she succumbed to sleep, she’d wake, and we would go try again.

We also tried co-sleeping, hopeful that being close to us would provide her some comfort, but found that such proximity only stimulated her to fight sleep in order to nurse frantically all night - I awoke more than once to a find a puddle of my milk pooled under her head. So we’d try variations of other arrangements again, which would allow her to sleep more peacefully, if not for long.

We didn’t expect her to sleep through the night at six weeks, or even six months, understanding that nightwaking is normal. We were more than willing to attend to her in the wee hours, and I was happy to nurse her more than once overnight. But months of hourly (and occasionally more frequent) waking was wearing us down. Frustrated and exhausted, we stumbled through our days and nights, and desperately searched books on baby sleep for a solution. The mainstream consensus was clear: our baby should be sleeping through the night by now, and if she wasn’t, we should ‘help’ her by leaving her to cry it out.

We considered that advice, but as I wrote in this post, quickly concluded that cry-it-out wasn’t compatible with the attachment parenting approach in which we believed. At some point, we accepted that there probably wasn’t a silver bullet for our sleep struggles. The answer to the question of what to do for our daughter, a restless sleeper with high nocturnal needs, was simple, and one we’d known all along: when she cried, we would respond. Every time. Sometimes I nursed her as soon as she stirred, sometimes her Dada snuggled with her or patted her bum softly until she drifted back into slumber. We continued to bring her into our bed, and finally, one night when she was almost eleven months old, she finished nursing, rolled over, and went to sleep. It was the first night she’d actually slept next to me without nursing for a few hours, and she hasn’t been back in her crib since.

Co-sleeping feels right for us. Though she still stirs often throughout the night, just being beside us seems to lengthen each stretch of snooze - finally we can comfort her without waking ourselves! And when she does arouse, if she isn’t easily soothed back to sleep, she nestles next to me and nurses, and we doze off together again. Of course there are nights when we find ourselves exasperated at the fact that we haven’t enjoyed a night of unbroken sleep for over a year, but we are committed to giving her our presence even when it isn’t easy to do so. And when the sun comes up on her sweet face between my husband and me, I wouldn’t want any of us to be anywhere else.

Originally posted at API Speaks October 14, 2008.

AP Carnival of Presence

If you're looking for bearded ladies, you're not likely to come across any at API Speaks' Carnival of Presence. What you will find is a collection of posts on the AP Parenting Month theme "Giving Our Children Presence" from a variety of bloggers, including yours truly. Even in the absence of funnel cake, it's worth a visit. Enjoy!

Sign Us Up: Sometimes a Full Schedule Can Mean More Time For Each Other

As working parents, the time we have to be physically present for our daughter is limited five days a week. Cosleeping affords us additional hours of closeness, but we’re unconscious for at least a few of those. Eric enjoys breakfast with her every morning, and I arrive at work later than I might otherwise like to most days because I’m having too much fun with her and her friends at daycare. But evenings offer us our best opportunity to spend quality time together. As October – Attachment Parenting Month – approached, I gave a lot of thought to the theme of “giving our children presence,” and wondered whether I was truly taking advantage of the hours I had with Violet after work . We did spend that time together, and I made sure some of it was spent giving her all of my attention, whether we read books, went for a walk, or played with the cat. But it was also easy to be distracted by housework, errands, and other chores, and as I reflected on the previous weeks, I realized I was spending almost as much time each night with an armload of laundry - Violet toddling behind me snagging the stray socks - as I was with my daughter in my arms . Time to refocus.

Eric and I had taken her to swimming lessons last spring, something we’d all loved. The program we’d previously attended no longer offered evening sessions, so I tracked down a new class at the local Y that was scheduled to start October 6. Perfect! Last Monday at 6:35, we were back in the water.

Violet took to it as quickly as she had the first time, all smiles even as the instructor cavorted between her and the other baby in attendance, splashing them in equal measure to get them accustomed to the aquatic environment. During our lessons six months ago, we worked primarily on teaching her to float on her back; this round has started out much more playfully, and we're having a blast with it. She's reaching for fun things floating around her, kicking her feet, riding around the pool on my chest, and holding on to the kickboard as I propel her through the water. On Monday, she even made her first trip down the slide!

We were having so much fun with swimming lessons, I figured why stop there? I'd been interested in checking out Mommy and Me yoga classes for a while, and now seemed like as good a time as any to give it a try. As luck would have it, the class I hoped to get into was starting this week. Scheduled for Tuesday nights, it fit neatly between our Monday and Wednesday trips to the pool, so I signed us up.

I can't say that I got much of a workout out of our first yoga class last night, but what I did get out of it was another hour of awesome interaction with my daughter. Some of the class was intended for mamas and babies together - we tried out several poses that incorporated our kids, and devoted time toward the end to baby massage. The rest of the yoga routine was more mama centered - though each of us sat back through parts of it to nurse our little ones. While we were participating, the kids were free to run around and check out each other as well as the toys we'd brought to satisfy their fleeting attention spans. Violet also enjoyed sitting beside me and imitating me: watching as I interlaced my fingers and stretched my arms upward, and then reaching her own arms high above her head. The conclusion of class called for us to lie on our mats, completely relaxed. Violet contributed by clambering on top of me to give me a kiss. I don't know about relaxation, but it sure felt good.

October has turned out to be a very busy month for us, but being busy isn't always a bad thing. In this instance, it's helped us to make sure we dedicate more of our time and ourselves to engaging our little girl, not just keeping her occupied. I don't know if we'll stick with such a packed schedule, but I hope that what we're doing now will serve as a valuable reminder even after classes are over to put everything else aside, at least some of the time, to focus entirely on spending time together. And when it's this much fun, why wouldn't we?

Attachment Parenting Month 2008: "Giving Our Children Presence"

Attachment Parenting International (API) has designated October Attachment Parenting Month, and this year’s theme is “Giving Our Children Presence.” It’s such a great reminder for me; I know for me it’s easy to caught up in the everyday details, and while I’m with Violet . . . I’m not always with her. I’m looking forward to thinking about - and writing about - ways that we give our presence to our daughter and ways that can we can give her more. I’m also looking forward to reading and responding to other parents’ thoughts on the subject over on API Speaks this month. After Violet’s gone to bed, of course. ;)

Dumping the Pump

After more than a year of sticking my "please do not disturb" post-it on my office door 2 or three times a day, I'm officially retiring my breastpump. I hadn't yet given much thought to when I'd stop pumping when, a week ago, Violet decided she was done drinking breastmilk any way other than straight from the source.

She was never much for the bottle to begin with. We waited to introduce one until she was six or eight weeks old, and Eric's initial overtures with it were not well received. She refused to take a bottle the entirety of my maternity leave, and we worried about whether she'd be more willing once she was in daycare. I went back to work when she was three months old, and getting her settled there went more smoothly than I ever could have hoped. But she still refused to take a bottle. She wasn't upset about it, she just wouldn't eat.

Fortunately, my employer is family-friendly, and supported me as I worked around Violet's preference for nothing but the breast. I'd nurse her there at the daycare immediately before going in to work, and return at lunch time to a happy (but hungry!) baby. After lunch she'd hold out until I returned at the end of the day when we'd sit down and nurse before heading home. She made up for any missed milk when we were together at night.

She stuck with this schedule for a couple of months, while her caregivers at daycare continued to gently encourage her to accept a bottle. Once she did, she never took more than 4 ounces at a time - and usually only an ounce or two. Just enough, it seemed, to stave off hunger for a little while longer.

Since Violet was never particularly attached to the bottle, I probably shouldn't have been so surprised when she decided she was done with it. She refused it from her sippy cup, too, waiting for the milk in the cup to be replaced with water before drinking. Wanting to be certain, I kept pumping all last week while we waited to see if she changed her mind. She didn't. So I packed up the pump, and worked all day through today without taking a break to pump. I could get used to this.

I don't know of any woman who loves to pump, and I certainly didn't, but I'm glad that I did it. I'm happy to have kept her exclusively breast-fed for more than six months despite being separated during the day, and to have continued to supply her with my milk to drink while we were apart as long as I have. She'll continue to get the benefits of breastmilk as we continue nursing whenever we're together; she's shown no sign of losing interest in that! And I'm looking forward to being done with dragging the pump to the office every day, (don't laugh) deleting my freezer stash spreadsheet, and getting back to the best parts of the nursing relationship: when she is snuggled into me and looks up and smiles. Or waves her foot in my face. Those are some of my favorite motherhood moments so far.

AP 101

With Attachment Parenting month approaching, I thought I’d provide an Intro to AP of sorts for those who haven’t been formally introduced to the topic, and as a prologue to posts to come. If you’re already an AP’er, you might be more familiar with Dr. Sears’ “7 Baby B’s” than the eight principles articulated by Attachment Parenting International listed below, but you’ll find the two are consistent, and essentially mirror each other. It all points to the same place: nurturing a strong bond with your baby.

Attachment Parenting (“AP”) isn’t a fringe philosophy endorsed only by the patchouli-wearing hippie set. It’s simply a natural approach to parenting that can be observed across centuries and across the globe. Certainly there are multitudes of people practicing attachment parenting without ever having heard it referred to as such. They’re just doing what feels right for their families - and can often be heard to exclaim “I didn’t know there was a name for it!” when they learn of AP itself.

As discussed in this previous post, the premise of AP philosophy is that children thrive not only emotionally, but physically, neurologically, cognitively, and socially when their innate needs are consistently met by loving caregivers, creating the strong bonds of secure attachment. A nice concept, certainly, but a bit abstract on its own. Fortunately, AP advocates like Dr. Sears and API have broken down the overarching idea of AP into several central tenets. API has identified eight principles of attachment parenting:

1. Prepare for Pregnancy, Birth, and Parenting. Become emotionally and physically prepared for pregnancy and birth. Research available options for healthcare providers and birthing environments, and become informed about routine newborn care. Continuously educate yourself about developmental stages of childhood, setting realistic expectations and remaining flexible.

2. Feed with Love and Respect. Breastfeeding is the optimal way to satisfy an infant's nutritional and emotional needs. "Bottle Nursing" adapts breastfeeding behaviors to bottle-feeding to help initiate a secure attachment. Follow the feeding cues for both infants and children, encouraging them to eat when they are hungry and stop when they are full. Offer healthy food choices and model healthy eating behavior.

3. Respond with Sensitivity. Build the foundation of trust and empathy beginning in infancy. Tune in to what your child is communicating to you, then respond consistently and appropriately. Babies cannot be expected to self-soothe, they need calm, loving, empathetic parents to help them learn to regulate their emotions. Respond sensitively to a child who is hurting or expressing strong emotion, and share in their joy.

4. Use Nurturing Touch. Touch meets a baby's needs for physical contact, affection, security, stimulation, and movement. Skin-to-skin contact is especially effective, such as during breastfeeding, bathing, or massage. Carrying or babywearing also meets this need while on the go. Hugs, snuggling, back rubs, massage, and physical play help meet this need in older children.

5. Engage in Nighttime Parenting. Babies and children have needs at night just as they do during the day; from hunger, loneliness, and fear, to feeling too hot or too cold. They rely on parents to soothe them and help them regulate their intense emotions. Sleep training techniques can have detrimental physiological and psychological effects. Safe co-sleeping has benefits to both babies and parents.

6. Provide Consistent and Loving Care. Babies and young children have an intense need for the physical presence of a consistent, loving, responsive caregiver: ideally a parent. If it becomes necessary, choose an alternate caregiver who has formed a bond with the child and who cares for him in a way that strengthens the attachment relationship. Keep schedules flexible, and minimize stress and fear during short separations.

7. Practice Positive Discipline. Positive discipline helps a child develop a conscience guided by his own internal discipline and compassion for others. Discipline that is empathetic, loving, and respectful strengthens the connection between parent and child. Rather than reacting to behavior, discover the needs leading to the behavior. Communicate and craft solutions together while keeping everyone's dignity intact.

8. Strive for Balance in Personal and Family Life. It is easier to be emotionally responsive when you feel in balance. Create a support network, set realistic goals, put people before things, and don't be afraid to say "no". Recognize individual needs within the family and meet them to the greatest extent possible without compromising your physical and emotional health. Be creative, have fun with parenting, and take time to care for yourself.

No parent is perfect, and no parent can successfuly implement all of the principles, all of the time. But they provide some great guidelines, and remind us of what kind of parents we aspire to be. Look for posts on how the principles are applied in the everyday lives of AP families - including ours - both here on this blog, as well as over on API Speaks. And feel free to share your own!

Speaking Out

I started this blog simply as a means of sharing stories and photos with family and friends; its creation inspired by the impending birth of our first baby. It's evolved over the past year to include more posts on many of the parenting or otherwise kid-related subjects we're passionate about. As of today, some of those posts will reach beyond those original Postcard recipients!

I've been invited to become a contributing blogger at API Speaks, the blog for the Attachment Parenting International. My first post, Who Says Kids Don't Like Curry?, hit the API Speaks page this afternoon. I'll repost it here, but I encourage everyone to check out the API Speaks blog, or Attachment Parenting International's website. API "promotes parenting practices that create strong, healthy emotional bonds between children and their parents," something Eric and I feel strongly about. October has been designated as Attachment Parenting month, so expect to see more posts on AP subjects coming up, both here on Postcards From the East End, as well as over at API Speaks.

Dada

Violet lights up every time she sees him, whether he's been at work or just in the next room. He taught her to play peek-a-boo, give a high five, and play her tiny drum (we might regret this later). And he's just getting started.

He is my perfect partner in parenting, as in life. He has given himself over to fatherhood wholeheartedly, embracing everything from the art of the tiny manicure to the latest literature on vaccination reactions. And he makes our daughter smile wider than anyone else can.

Happy Father's Day, Dada. We love you.

Attachment Parenting Is Keeping Us Up at Night: Why We Haven't Gone the Cry-It-Out Route

Violet has never been much inclined toward sleep. A standard stretch usually won't exceed four hours, and more frequent waking (like every hour) is far from unheard of in our house. As a result, Eric and I have yet to get a solid night's sleep in the last 10 months.

We have marveled at the discovery that our bodies (and our minds - though arguably to a lesser extent) can continue to function on just a few inconsecutive hours of rest a night, but that doesn't make it any less painful. And yet, each night, when we hear her cry, we stumble once more to her side to soothe her or bring her back to our bed.

Mainstream American parenting culture tells us that she should be sleeping through the night by now. A common approach to accomplishing this is the Ferber/extinction method, otherwise known as “cry-it-out.” Have we considered it? Of course. Believe me, we’ve considered everything. But ultimately, crying it out just isn’t compatible with the principles of attachment parenting we believe in.

Attachment parenting is no newfangled trend. Though the term originated with pediatrician Dr. Bill Sears, the theory behind it was advanced by developmental psychologist John Bowlby in the 1960s. According to attachment theory, a strong bond between babies and parents is crucial for the child’s social, emotional, and even physical development. That bond is simply not reinforced by refusing to respond to the baby’s cry.

There is scientific evidence to support the proposition that leaving a baby to cry alone can cause physiological, if not psychological and emotional harm. Studies have shown that periods of crying and upset are accompanied by a flood of the stress hormone cortisol; frequent and prolonged exposure to cortisol can affect brain development in areas relating to memory, emotional regulation and attention, and behavior. The presence of a loving parent has been demonstrated to lower levels of cortisol even during episodes of crying.

Although such information is always of interest to us, on this issue we find ourselves guided less by science and more by instinct, and even a little common sense. Proponents of cry-it-out suggest that this method teaches the baby to "self-soothe." I find it hard to believe that a baby left to cry it out has actually soothed herself to sleep rather than falling asleep after exhausting herself crying. It's true that babies subjected to the cry-it-out technique may eventually cry less at night, but who's to say that is a reflection of self-soothing skills rather than the result of basic behavioral conditioning?

Cry-it-out, is, after all, operant conditioning method designed to extinguish a specific behavior. The baby, having learned that her attempt at communicating her need for comfort by crying does not elicit any response, will eventually cease in her efforts. Thus the crying stops - and behaviorists declare the process a success. But while she may not cry any more at night, it's likely not because the reason she was crying has been resolved - why the baby was crying has no place in a behavioral analysis and therefore was never addressed.

All babies, in fact all people, wake frequently at night. If (hopefully when) Violet is able to wake at night and soothe herself back to sleep, we'd like for it to be because she is ready to do so, not because we've left her with no alternative. Some would counter that in being responsive to her nighttime needs, we're spoiling her, and that she'll grow up demanding and dependent. But as acknowledged by Harvard Medical School Department of Psychiatry researchers Commons and Miller, physical contact and reassurance at this young age fosters the kind of secure attachment which will provide Violet a foundation from which to establish her independence.

We think that's worth a few more sleepless nights.