I think a lot about what I’m teaching my son when it comes to money and opportunities and “stuff.” Correction: I think a lot about what I will be teaching my son. He’s young enough still that what he learns from  us is more along the lines of drinking from a coffee cup than that whether we drink premium coffee, thank goodness. We still have time to think.

Side note: I used to read blog posts by parents that sounded like this one and wonder where they learned what to think about? Did they get some sort of class I missed that gave them a list of things to keep in mind while parenting? Then I had a child (and got past the first four months where there’s little time for thought) and suddenly I was thinking the same way. If you’re wondering where this comes from, it just pops up one day and then you think about it every hour of every day.

My husband and I talk about how to raise our son so that he isn’t a douche like many of our childhood friends whose parents had more money than ours. For both of us, from lack came focus, from hardship came a sense of responsibility.

Should we be causing some sort of lack, then, so that our son gets the same kind of focus? Barring an unforeseen hardship, how do we instill that sense of responsibility? Having come from a different kind of childhood than he’ll have, financially at least (knock on wood), we will have to teach ourselves rather than follow the example of our upbringing.

We have so many ideas, most of which I’ll share in various blog posts as we figure them out a little better, but the quote from Jennifer Lopez this morning was one I’ll be thinking about.

We found a kids consignment store just up the street, and while it’s more “permanent yard sale” than “lovely vintage store,” if we’re picky we find good stuff. After much pressure from my hubby to do something (other than trip over) the paraphernalia we no longer use, I decided to trade it for a Rainforest Jumper.

My son loves the doorway jumper my mom bought him for Christmas, but since we have no door frames in the living area, we wanted a jumper that could stand on the floor. And because I hate the thought of paying full price for a plastic contraption that my son will use for a few months, buying one used seemed smart.

Then I got it home. I was in a hurry when I ran in to make the trade, with a cell phone in my ear as I tried to simultaneously unload my car and pay attention to a conference call so with a few awkward hand signals and an apology to the shop owner, I was in and out without looking too closely.

This thing was disgusting. Dirty plastic I can handle, but when I took the metal frame apart, bugs fell out. Thank goodness they were dead, but still…. Ew. I freaked and dumped the whole thing in the tub, then took every last piece apart, including those held together by screws.

~~~

Apparently I published accidentally, so consider this part II.

My first thought was, “This is effing disgusting. I can afford better. No more used toys, ever.”

That was my second thought too. Quite frankly, that thought didn’t leave my head for two hours while I soaked the gross thing in scalding hot water and one of various household cleaners in turn. I filled the tub three times, using first a green cleaner, then Ajax, then bleach. {I’ll get back to the actual toy in a second.}

Three hours later, I started to feel bad.

First I felt bad for moms who couldn’t afford the new toy. Taking a toy from disgusting to usable is a lot of work! I scrubbed with steel wool, Mr. Clean Magic Erasers, a scrub brush, and a toothbrush. I stuck my hands in too-hot water, got icky rinse water all over my arms, and killed my back bending over the tub to scrub. It felt good to soak off all the gross stickers, but then I wondered if the toy would be as fun without all the sticky bling.

Then I felt bad for being so douchy about cost. Since I was a child and very aware that my parents couldn’t afford everything my well-off friends had, I’ve understood money to mean freedom. With more money comes more choices, and I’m all about choices.

But what about responsibility, if not to the environment, but to those who can’t afford better? And when it comes down to it, is my purchase of a used toy good in the same way buying organic is, or am I taking someone else’s opportunity for a Rainforest Bouncer at half price?

So many questions to ponder. By the time I stopped being disgusted long enough to think (and call the store to complain), I’d taken the whole darned thing apart and wasn’t going to put it back together (in cleaner condition, no less) just so they could sell it for more.

In the end, the thing got (beautifully) clean and is probably the cleanest toy in the house. The hot water soak got rid of the bugs from every nook and cranny, the Ajax and bleach took care of any germs and mold spots (seriously, ew) and the TWO subsequent soaks with regular soap got rid of the bleach and Ajax residue. The last (and sixth, if you’re counting) rinse made sure all of the chemicals were really gone.

I put it all back together and my kid loved it (thank goodness, or I’d have gone through all that existential crisis for nada), but the questions still linger. What is my responsibility to society and the earth in terms of the plastic crap kids love and I’m not against? What’s the best way to “do” secondhand – buying directly from people via Craigslist is now my preferred method, but I don’t think I’ll always stay away from secondhand stores? And how big a douche am I for immediately jumping to the “I don’t have to put up with this HeresMoreMoneyMakeItGoAway”?

While holding him and making the appropriate, "Ohh, oh, ohhhh, baby!" sounds, I realized we need a song. When he gets the inevitable ouchies, I can snuggle him and smooch him until we’re finished singing the song, then say, "Yay, you’re all better!"

So I needed to pick a song. I liked "You Are My Sunshine," but I’m didn’t think I wanted that to be the ouchie song. We already sang the ABC’s when I needed him to calm down or settle into sleep. My vocal range is tiny and I can’t carry a tune, so simple but not totally annoying when it gets stuck in my head would be awesome.

Then one of my friends suggested this awesomeness:

‎"If you fall and get a boo boo sing a song

If you have a little ouchie sing along

Let me wipe away your tears and kiss away your fears

No more crying ’cause the hurting is all gone”

(sung to the tune of “If You’re Happy And You Know It”)

I modified it a bit and am practicing it today. I’m not saying I want Javi to get an ouchie, but I am looking forward to having an ouchie song!

‎"If you fall and get a boo boo sing a song

If you have a little ouchie sing along

Let me tickle away your tears and then I’ll smooch away the smears

No more crying ’cause the hurting is all gone!”

Javi is just shy of six months old.

For the past few months, we’ve been in a pretty solid every-three-ish-hours formula routine. Javi eats Enfamil Gentlease formula, and though it’s expensive, attempts at switching him to two generic versions were deemed a total failure. The Sam’s Club version got him all hopped up like he was on a sugar high; the Target version caused fountains of spit-up. So, we order it from Amazon and don’t mind the cost. Hell, we pay for premium dog food, right? We switched to Gentlease during that period when your eight-week old infant is fussy and you have no idea why so you try everything to just FIX IT. He would probably do fine on regular infant formula now, but we’re far too chicken to mess up a good thing by trying to switch, and his pediatrician says we gain nothing by doing it, so why bother?

Our parenting mantra: keep doing it while it works, and when it stops working, do something different.

We now use Dr. Brown’s bottles in the 8 ounce size after trying Breastflow and Avent, and finally realizing why everyone else puts up with the little pieces that make up a Dr. Brown system. They work. We have a cheap generic dishwasher basket for all the parts except the nipples; those stand up in a little basket that came with our dishwasher. I don’t know what it’s intent was, but it’s perfect for holding them upright so they get really clean.

So, the three hour schedule: I can’t take credit for it. We were feeding him really often (REALLY often) before we started day care at 10 weeks, and within two to three weeks he was on an every three hours-ish schedule. I’m certain some crying and fussing was involved in getting him there, but it’s been good for him to go longer than an hour without eating (we were such suckers) and we avoided crying and fussing (literally, I would cry when he would cry back then).

He wakes up between 6 and 7 in the morning and gets one bottle with an extra ounce of apple juice for digestive reasons. Around 9-ish he gets another, then he eats the next two at day care (say, noon-ish and three-ish), then a final bottle at or around bedtime. If he’s hungry before bedtime and it’s clear he’s not also tired, we’ll give him a bottle early and then just a few extra ounces during our bedtime routine.

He eats around 6 ounces of formula at a time. During growth spurts, he’ll suck them dry, taking in somewhere around 30 ounces in a day. Once that passes, he’ll leave an ounce in every bottle for a while, bringing the total down to 25-ish ounces.

We started flirting with solid-ish foods after his four month pediatrician visit, mostly for fun until very recently when he made it clear to us that it was time to take this thing to the next level. (He did this by being really disinterested in his bottles for a few days.) By this point he’d had sweet potatoes, butternut squash, and pears, all roasted and smushed by me because I’d rather do that than go to the store when I get a whim to feed my kid smushy food.

(It’s so easy. Cut the suckers in half and lay them cut side down on foil or in a pan, then roast at 350 until they’re soft and smushy. Mash them with a fork or run them through a cheapo $8 manual food mill, add a little apple juice to get to the right consistency, and freeze in little dollops. I add spices too because that’s fun, cinnamon to sweet potatoes and ginger to pears. When you’re ready to use one, pop a frozen dollop in a bowl and defrost, then add cereal and formula to get the consistency right again. It’s pretty tasty.)

Because we’re pretty easy-going, his day care peeps tried oatmeal cereal with him one day and then mixed grains with sweet potatoes and apples another. The first got an “eh” response; the second got “ohmygod this stuff is great!” in baby terms. Technically the mixed grains are a “level three” cereal, but nothing went wrong and he likes it, so I’ve kept feeding it to him.

I let him try to feed himself if he wants, with a spoon or his hands or (in a particularly funny moment today) by dipping his face into the bowl like a puppy. Why not? Worst case, he gags a bit, then is more careful with the spoon next time, or snorts sweet potatoes and then laughs. And while we do own baby spoons, he chews on them and thus they are never to be found when needed for their actual purpose, so we use real spoons. At day care they use full-sized disposable plastic spoons.

Once the bottle disinterest happened, it was time to have an actual plan lest he start trading fun food for the nutritional benefit of formula, so as of yesterday, he gets the first bottle as per usual, the second bottle is 4 oz followed by a mix of cereal and something I’ve smushed with some formula added, then he gets the third and fourth bottles at day care, and the final bottle at bedtime. I’ve managed to quell the urges I have to spike his formula with spices for variety for now.

I’m choosing to feed him the smushy stuff at home, not at day care, because a) then I have some control over making sure he gets formula first and then food and b) I can never find containers I can send food to day care in and c) it’s fun and I want to keep the fun stuff here, thankyouverymuch. Plus, he makes a mess while in his pj’s, which I fully support, and I just wipe him down and change him before sending him in a cute outfit that’ll stay somewhat clean until he comes home (or pees on it).

I’m guessing we’ll keep doing this one-food-a-day thing until he tells us he’s ready for more, then we’ll add a second meal…? We’ll see.

Jav is just shy of six months old. I’ll start by sharing our current “routine,” (if one can call anything with a baby a routine without it immediately changing just for funsies) and then I’ll note what life was like when he was younger.

I always wondered how people negotiated baby sharing between mom and dad. We’ve been formula feeding for a long time, so we have more opportunity for an equal share, but like many couples, we tend to adjust based on our natural talents.

I’m Snuggle Mom, so I do most of the overnight shifts. (Funny story: if you asked my husband, he’d swear we split them equally. He is wrong. On average, he’ll do one or two nights a week but they are apparently SO EXHAUSTING that they feel like four or five days.) Barring the four weeks or so when he was in Four Month Sleep Regression Hell, he wakes up maybe once and goes right back to sleep if I help him find his pacifier. Around 5:30, I can hear him babbling and fussing* but I ignore him until after 6 on principle, then we get up and he gets his first bottle of the day. Depending on how generous I’m feeling, I’ll feed him and lay him back down for snoozing, or I’ll wake Joey up and let him deal.

I’ll cover feeding later, but note that we put one ounce of 100% apple juice in his morning bottle for digestive reasons.

My husband is Fun Dad, so early mornings are a good time for he and Javi. They dance to 80’s music, play silly games involving bouncing and jumping and fake horse rides, and talk up a storm while I grab an hour or two of sleep. I’ll share more about our mornings in another post.

For me, one of the more challenging aspects of being a good partner has been identifying what I’m feeling before I blow my top, and “resentful” is one I pay special attention to. Sometimes I’ll notice I’m inexplicably angry at Joey, other times it starts as envy or jealousy, but regardless of the clue, if resentment is the cause, it’s time for him to do an overnight shift or two.

Why don’t we share them more equally? Because equal and equitable are not the same thing. I am better at feeding Jav and getting him back to sleep. Joey is way more fun in the mornings. And, truth be told, when Joey does night shift, I wake up to an overtired Jav and Daddy watching TV at 5 am. I try to stay out of his parenting, stick to gratitude for the uninterrupted sleep, and keep my comments to myself… then pick up my grumpy baby, tell him it’s time for a nap and put him in his crib to snooze. He seems grateful too.

Hmmm, what other details would you care about? When he fusses at night, I do not take him out of his crib unless he’s clearly uncomfortable for some reason or has leaked all over his bed. Wardrobe change! I will help him find his pacifier if he’s rooting around. He can and does fall sleep without it, but sometimes it just helps us all get back to sleep sooner. I didn’t DO anything to create this situation, just let him tell me if he needs it or not.

I do not generally bring him to bed with me. (If I do, we go to the guest room.) This is less about my preferences or principles and more that my son is my husband’s child, and neither like to be touched while sleeping. Cue mama’s snuggly heart wailing, ha. Inevitably, “co-sleeping” with my kid ends up with me clinging to one side of the bed while he’s starfished across most of it, grunting in annoyance if I touch him. We did this for those four weeks around four months because he was waking so often it kept me from stumbling across the hall every hour, but even then he slept better in his crib.

I do not feed him unless he’s clearly hungry. My kid is a fantastic communicator (thanks, Jav): if he’s hungry, he smacks his lips and cries this pathetic heart-is-broken cry with an upside down smile.

Oh, right, one last thing: he sleeps in footie pajamas and a sleep sack, with a radiant heater in his room set to 68-ish, white noise machine going all night (rain + wind + heartbeat), with one blanket for snuggling, a small quilt folded over his lower half, and a stuffed animal all in his crib.

I know, I know, bad sleeping stuff going on there. The stuffed animal is big and heavy so he can’t throw it around his crib; it stays between him and the bars and he pushes his face into it when he needs more darkness. (“Thin-lidded,” they call him at day care.) The snuggle blanket is on the other side, under his arm, and he rubs his fingers along the flannel as he’s falling asleep. His lower half lays on top of one half of the quilt with the other half folded over up to his waist. If it’s chilly, he leaves it. If he gets hot, he kicks it off.

What did I miss that inquiring minds want to know?

~~~

*This is the fourth or fifth post I’ve published with an asterisk that I never explained later. Annoying! I used to struggle to identify “fussing” when my baby was younger, so this is my attempt at clarifying what I’ve learned so far. What I call fussing in my child is not any of the following sounds:

“Aaaaaa-aaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaah.” {tired crying, if he’s not settled in five or ten minutes, he needs help – a pat on the belly, a hug, a snuggle}

“Waaaaa! Waaaaaa!” {needs something, usually because he’s covered in pee}

“Uhuhuhuhuhuh.” {trying to fall asleep, generally resolves it himself}

“Blahblahblahblah.” {awake! hello! sleepy time is over}

“Eeeeeeeee!” {party. time. *crap*}

Fussing is more like: “uuuuh. uuuuuh. uuuuuuh” and warrants some form of aid, like a pacifier or pat on the belly.

Though I decided not to even attempt the popular Monthly Baby Photos given my lack of consistency in all things, I do take a fair number of photos of my kiddo. I mean, the dude is cute!

But adding to the list of Things I Wish I Did Better is getting photos off my phone or camera onto some form of display. Problem is that framing photos takes so many decisions, and I reserve my limited decision-making capacity for more important things like which new baby gadget we should buy.

Cue Easy Canvas Prints.

Canvases can be hung on a simple nail, don’t require decisions other than size, and are safe if they fall off the wall – no glass to shatter. They can be propped up on a mantel or table and somehow just aren’t as “precious” as an expensive frame while still being presentable.

Someday, perhaps when I find a well of consistency hidden deep within, I’ll create a photo wall of canvases. In the meantime, perhaps I can manage to just pick one a month.

~~~
Want one for yourself? Leave a comment telling me how you bring your digital photos to real life. Photo books? Print and frame? Something even more awesome?

Sorry, this giveaway is only for U.S. residents excluding Alaska and Hawaii due to shipping costs. Also, you get 50% off & free shipping on your next order by clicking the LIKE button on their Facebook page: Easy Canvas Prints.

Jav is just shy of six months old.

Though we keep trying to push his bedtime back (and then remembering how miserable a tired baby is), we generally get him to bed between 6:30 and 7:30 pm. Every so often he’s falling apart so badly* that we get him to bed at 6; periodically he is in such a good mood that he’s in bed at 7:45. I cannot remember the last time we pushed it to 8 pm and didn’t suffer terribly for it.

So, bedtime. We’re surprisingly consistent with the bedtime routine, an unusual thing for both Joey and I, but we chalk this one up to straight up fear: mess with it a little, and you get it back in spades.

1. Pre-bath we turn the lights down in the nursery, kick on the white noise, and click on the heater. We make the bottle at this point, too.
2. Javi always gets a bath or shower — some form of water-dousing — before bedtime. Twice in the past six months we’ve skipped it; no bueno. I posted in detail about our bath strategy before so I’ll skip it here.
3. Still wrapped in a towel, we head to Jav’s room and go through the diaper routine: dry off all the nooks and crannies, Beaudroux for the booty, a little dab of Vaseline on the boy parts, then a diaper. Note: we use regular diapers that are one size bigger overnight for the increased absorbency. Every so often (like now) he’s a tad too small to move up to the next size full-time but the current size is pretty snug… these are the times he leaks overnight. We put a Grovia diaper cover over his disposable diaper until his daytime size moves up.
4. He wears footie pajamas and a fleece sleep sack (Halo with two-way zippers are my faves) most nights. If it’s really cold, he’ll wear socks under his footies. If his pj’s are fleece, I put a cotton onesie under it and use a cotton sleep sack or skip it altogether.
5. I move to the glider and feed him his bottle while his dad reads a book. We read the same book every night: “I Am Not Going to Get Up Today” by Dr. Seuss, but we change the words to “I Am Not Going to Get Up Tonight.”
6. Once he finishes his bottle, I move him to my shoulder to burp him. Though he’s sort of okay at burping himself during the day, at night it’s difficult because he’s flat on his back, so I look for one good belch or a series of toots before I lay him down. {Generally his dad is still reading at this point. If not, I sing the ABC song.}
7. After burping, I stand up, lay him in his bed, pop in a paci, give him his blankie, cover his legs, and turn off the light.
8. I walk out.
9. If he doesn’t go right to sleep, sometimes it just means that he’s tired and needs to work out some energy. If this is true, he’s kicky kicking his legs and flopping his arms around but pretty quiet. We make ourselves stop watching him on the monitor (SO hard not to intervene) and he works it out on his own.
10. If he’s making noise, it usually means he has a gas bubble, so I pick him up, squeeze him into a big hug, and it bubbles up (or down, ha). Back into bed he goes.

That’s it. On bad nights — like, after shots or if he’s stuffed up — he might yell for us a couple of times. Unless it’s obvious that he just needs some alone time to work himself down (and this would be rare if there was a good reason like shots), I’ll rock him until he’s asleep, then lay him down.

I try valiantly not to sneak out or move quietly or anything. Joey does, though. I figured if I close the door like a normal person, or flick off the light with a click, or make whatever night time noise is required, he’d get used to it, and he did.

~~~

All of that has been pretty much the same for a few months, but during the four-month sleep regression, we had more angst as the kid woke up over and over. Should we be CIO’ing? (I didn’t realize CIO is generally just to get a baby to go down, not necessarily to stay down longer.) WHAT ARE WE DOING WRONG? Answer: nothing. My mom group reminded me that it would pass so I’d pop a paci in his mouth as many times as he asked for it and sometimes brought him to the guest bed with me. It sucked, but we got through it.

Now, when he was still waking up multiple times through the night to eat, we did not change his diaper every time (unless we smelled poop, but he’s always been a day time pooper). The routine then was: stumble in to the kitchen to get/ make a bottle, back to his room, into the rocker to feed the kid, sniff to see if he smelled like poop, move him to shoulder to burp, put him back in bed. Sometimes he’d stay, other times he’d cry and we’d pick him up and rock him until he calmed. Rinse, repeat.

Every other feeding we’d change him, which usually worked out to 4 am, which usually meant that I did the 4 am feeding because I could calm him better.

If he needed a diaper change, I chose to do that at the end; Joey preferred to do it at the beginning. I couldn’t handle a minute more of crying than was necessary. He couldn’t get Jav to settle if he woke him up.

Back then we also swaddled, so we’d put the sleep sack on before the feeding, then feed him, then move him to the crib (where the swaddler was laid out), swaddle him while he inevitably woke and cried his head off, rocked him in our arms until he settled a bit, then plopped him in the swing, turned that sucker to it’s highest setting, and walked out. I’m glad those days are over. If you’re in those days, try to have a routine but say don’t worry if every day feels like an exception.

~~~

That is almost 1110 words about putting a baby to sleep. Talk about overkill. Does anyone care about this or should I end the “series” with one post?

I went to a fancy schmancy running store to get fitted for shoes (and inserts and socks) and then came home and discovered that the manufacturer had the shoes at a deep discount because they were last season’s. Cue the drama.

I was willing to pay a premium for the service, but more than 100% more? Um, that’s crazy. I want to be loyal but not if I have to be stupid to do it.  In the end, I explained the situation to the lady at the running store, got a refund when they said they don’t “do sales” and left with my tail between my legs. Bummer for them, I’m now too embarrassed and awkward to ever go back there to pay their markup on gear.

Lesson: don’t make your customers have to choose between loyalty and intelligence. Put another way: I shouldn’t have to feel screwed to be your customer.

~~~

Whew, had to get that off my chest.  So, two UPS deliveries from now, I will be out of excuses to start C25K. I can honestly say I’d never hoped for a delayed delivery before now.

All of this got me thinking about pain and learning and frustration and growth and parenting. I have a really hard time watching my son struggle or be frustrated, something I suspect most moms feel. I want to help him by fixing it so I constantly remind myself that I help him by letting him learn to fix it himself. I still don’t do this well, though.

Here’s an example: while reading a book on child development by month during the first year, the writer noted that babies would learn to move between sitting and crawling because of the frustration that comes with toppling over.

I haven’t let my son topple over. Again borrowing from puppy training principles, I figured it best to keep him within the boundaries of success rather than set him up to fail, so he first sat by himself in the bouncer (with me nearby, obviously), then my lap, then the couch, then between my legs, then on the floor. He’s now steady enough to sit up without toppling over as long as he doesn’t try too hard to lunge for something interesting.

But much like the discomfort that will come from running serves me well, the frustration that comes from toppling over will be good for him. It also reminds me that we need to reorganize our home so that he can safely have more freedom. Because of the dogs (and our general lack of tidiness) we don’t set him down on the floor very often, but we need to find a way to make this his house too.

I have to throw in another shout-out to day care. I’m an “it takes a village” kind of person, if only because the pressure to be my son’s one and only anything is more than I prefer, and our decision to use a day care is SUCH a big part of that. My son can “fly” along the ground (in his own mind, but hey) and sort of roll over and bounce like a crazy man because he gets a chance to practice that at day care.

Go, day care! Thanks for doing the things that are good for my kid that I’m too wimpy or new to do myself! I’m catching on now!

They’re the wind beneath my wings.