The Lesson of the Lamp: Why Sleep Training is Worth the Effort
Not long ago, someone I know slightly was having a problem with her young son. Seems the darling boy was developing a very unlovely habit of waking, shrieking, at 5 a.m., and the only thing that would calm him was a visit to his crib from Mom or Dad — and all the better if either parent were carrying a nice bottle of juice and a “let’s start the day, already” attitude. Poor woman was at her wit’s end.
Various people offered good ideas to shift Wakey Baby’s sleep habits. Put him to bed earlier (he was already going to bed pretty early)? Later (tried it; didn’t take)? Drop his daytime nap (not an option; he was too young still to give up his midday snooze)?
Here’s the solution that worked: She bought a lamp that, when lit, featured a moving-fish theme. It had a timer. She showed her son his cool new lamp, which he loved, and told him that it was morning when the fish started to dance. She then set her ingenious new parenting tool for 5:15 a.m. It worked; no cries from the crib until then. Day by day, she added another 10 minutes or so to the fish-time, until, to her surprise and delight, her son was contentedly watching for his fishies and not calling out for his parents until 6 a.m., which for a working couple with two kids was perfectly acceptable.
What’s my point? This acquaintance’s first reaction to her son’s shifted wake time was to appease him, quick as possible, with the asked-for bottle of juice, and spending the rest of the day bleary-eyed and resentful. She was afraid: afraid that if she said no to the juice, no to coming in to her son’s room, no to starting the day when the moon was still up, her son would… what? End up twisted? Hate her? Likely, she was simply afraid any attempt to train her son would be too hard and take too long.
She found out otherwise. Lots of other parents don’t, figuring the path of least resistance, even if it has negative consequences (see: “bleary-eyed and resentful,” above) was a better option than the hard or messy work of retraining. I see a lot of parents afraid of all sorts of things: leaving the house without snacks; getting their baby to sleep in his own bed when they dearly, dearly want him to; disciplining the child who is clearly old enough to know that biting his brother is not acceptable.
I admit to sometimes (okay, often) being afraid of tackling the hard stuff. Isn’t it easier to clean up the toys yourself after they go to bed? Or apologize for their errant behavior just this once? Sure it is. But as the story about the boy and the fish lamp proves to me, what you imagine to be hard often ends up being pretty darn simple in the end. A lamp, some dancing fish, and a timer. Genius.
What are you afraid of?
May 16, 2009 @ 3:24 pm
For a long time I was afraid of my children “not being happy”. I was an “attachment parent” until I realized that I was using that phrase as an excuse to fight the fear that I wasn’t really in control.
I remember my son crying and crying and crying and my trying desperately to mash my boob into his mouth (he was an infant… this wasn’t recent, lol…) and I realized that in my brain I was thinking “shut up, shut up, shut up”…. not the soothing, meeting-of-needs thoughts that I was supposed to be thinking.
So I relaxed as a parent, I realized that if he cried that neither of us would actually DIE. That I was not a bad mommy just because my baby cried.
May 20, 2009 @ 8:53 pm
I’ve fallen into the “it’s easier to clean up the toys after bedtime” routine with my 2 1/2 year old. And because he’s not in day care or preschool yet, he’s not as familiar with the “clean up” song as he should be. I have some work to do on that front!
July 27, 2009 @ 4:36 am
I recently covinced our 2 1/2 year old daughter to give up the pacifier (to a non-existant baby moose). I’d been putting it off forever. I honestly didn’t want her to keep it past a year, but kept finding excuses for not ditching it moving, vacations, etc. The reality is that I didn’t want to hear the crying at bedtime. It’s been two weeks now and she’s still alive and not asking for it as much.
To Erika: A little shameless blackmail followed by praise never hurts. “You can’t watch Blues Clues until the blocks are picked up.” Our daughter now comes to me and says “Mommy, I’ll pick up my blocks then we can watch Veggie Tales!” If you’re consistent by always expecting them to pick up before whatever follows, it helps.