A couple of months ago, a lady at the flower shop we like told us that the best piece of parenting advice she got was something like, “The first time, it’s going to be really, really awful. The second time, it’s going to be just awful. And after that, it will start to be not so awful anymore.”
She had received that advice, she said, when trying to wean her baby daughter from falling asleep with a chupy, but took it as an all-occasion sort of mantra.
It’s essentially a variation of “This too shall pass,” right? Which I like even better as parenting advice, mainly for its feast/famine applicability.
For example. Alice, who was once such an angel of a nighttime sleeper has lately been waking up in the middle of the night, yelling and, as far as I can gather, starving. Fixing the starving fixes the yelling, but not necessarily the waking. And as we rock and whisper and cuddle and sing, I try to remind myself: Alice will not always need our help getting to sleep. What’s more? She won’t always want it – might not even want it for very long, really.
It is not always a great consolation at 4 in the morning.
As of the past few weeks, she’s been sleeping in her crib in her room. Not because we were in a hurry to evict her from ours, but because she had finally outgrown her bassinet. It could not be denied. Anyway, the move happening to coincide with her mastery of the roll, I dutifully removed the soft, cozy bumpers from the sides of the crib.
Only to find little hands and feet poking out between the slats every time I went in to check on her. Not ideal!
And, so, while I am fairly confident babies have survived for ages without them, “breathable” bumpers seemed like not only a good, but, really, the only option.
I know. I am fueling an industry.
Last night, we pushed her bedtime back an hour, and she slept through til 6:15 again. Which could mean it’s time to move on to the flower lady’s second-favorite parenting mantra: “No bow, no go.” Another winner, definitely.