Good Night and Good Luck (All Over Again)

Pray for us.

We’ve somehow gone back in time and landed in the late summer of 2009. That was when we decided to “sleep train” our 6/7-month-old son. The first night was absolutely horrible, but by night three, we had ourselves a sleeping-through-the-night young’un. My husband and I were able to eat dinner — get this– slowly! At the dinner table! While having a real live conversation! And we were happily re-introduced to this thing called The Evening.

"Yes, but this is how *I* read books, all right?"

The Youngster really took to the new sleep program, too. From 7-months on, he continued to sleep soundly through the night. Nothing salted this kid’s sleep game. Not Daylight Savings Time. Not moving to a new home (twice!). Not even transitioning from his crib to a toddler bed. Maaaan. It was glorious. Yes, glorious.  No, that’s not an exaggeration. Said it before, good  sleep is a serious matter, especially to parents and them babies.

So, right … back to our time traveling.

These last five or so weeks PI (or Post-Italy ) have been rather rough ones for the MMM Crew. Though we’ve made solid progress — for instance, The Youngster no longer kicks up a fit to go to school — the sleep portion of things is still walking with a limp.

There are random wake-ups in the thick of night, and getting QB back to sleep — in his bed, which is important — has been long and involved process. The result: We’re all waking up tired and cranky, thanks to the broken sleep. Adding another layer to this Yuck Cake, I’ve also been doing that ridiculous light, “listening for him stirring” sleep, which is utterly useless and leaves you feeling more exhausted than if you only had two or three deep-REM hours.

Oh, and at bedtime, QB is now insisting that we rub his back until he falls asleep. At first we figured, What’s 10 minutes of back-rubbing? We’ll still have The Evening. Yeah. Uh-huh. Now, kick that up to 45 minutes or even 6o minutes of trying to soothe this kid to sleep. Right. Something quite the opposite of glorious, isn’t it?

Yesterday my husband and I made the decision to pull the plug on this Let Me Control Things video game our son was playing with us. We’ve brought out our old books, namely this one: The Sleepeasy Solution, and I’ve been reading through my smarty-pants blogs (hello, Alice over at Science of Mom! *emphatic wave*). Because it’s BACK. TO. SLEEP. TRAINING!

We start tonight. I already had a chat with QB this morning during snuggle time to let him know that we’ve got a new plan. Funnily enough, last night the kid actually slept (as he says) awwwlll the way ’til the morning. He seemed quite proud of this, and we made a big deal about it. I’m thinking (OK, praying, wishing, hoping, throwing pennies into fountains-ing) that by this time next week, we’ll ALL be proud and making a big deal about our new sleep-through-the-night Youngster.

Maybe we’ll even have I Survived Sleep Training Redux tees made up for everyone.

(Still, send us positive vibes, folks!)

Guest Post: Crime and Punishment?

I met writer Colleen Oakley back in my magazine editor days. She was always quick with smart ideas and totally respected deadlines. A priceless combination when it comes to journalist. Although we’ve never actually met met, as in eye to eye, we’ve long stayed in touch, especially after we both moved into The MommyHood.  I’m delighted to have Colleen writing a guest post on Ms. Mary Mack. Have a read and, as usual, let us know what you think. Weigh in down below in the comments section!

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My son Henry is 21 months old. He has a hitting problem. More accurately, he hits me when I say something he doesn’t want to hear (“We’re done with the slide. Time to go in for lunch!” SMACK). My husband and I tried to curb this behavior by using the age-old method of Time Out. We set up a portable crib in the guest room and whenever Henry hit me, he went directly into said crib for 60 seconds. The problem? My child doesn’t mind being alone. When he was in Time Out, he giggled to himself, he sang songs and when I went to collect him from his solitary confinement, he even started to say “Bye Mom!” As in, “I don’t need you to come get me. I’m having fun in here.”

Keeping Henry's hands full and busy.

And the hitting didn’t stop. I was at wit’s end, so I did what every modern parent does when they can’t find a solution to their child’s problems—I scoured the Internet. I found a bevy of solutions ranging from praising good behavior (Tried; he still hits), to having him direct his anger at a pillow (Hmmm … I teach him not to hit by having him hit something else?), to hitting him back (NEVER!).

I settled on a Supernanny technique of the naughty corner. Now, whenever Henry hits me he must stand facing the corner for 60 seconds. I didn’t have much faith in the tool, thinking it was too similar to Time Out, but lo and behold, Henry HATES it. He wants his stuffed doggie, he screams and cries and by the end of 60 seconds when I kneel down and tell him that he can’t hit mommy because it makes her very sad, he gives me a big hug and says “sorry!”

The past few weeks since I’ve employed the corner technique have been nearly hit-free and I think that Henry is finally getting the message. But the big parenting message I’ve learned is that punishment is a very subjective thing. And as a parent, my job is to keep going until I find the thing that works for my child. I want him to grow up to be a responsible, respectful man — and to not hit his boss in the face when she says something he doesn’t want to hear.

We live in a society that, according to recent books and op-eds, has gotten slack in our parenting. Recently our lax American ways have been sharply contrasted to Tiger Moms and the perfection and simplicity of French parenting. We’re criticized for having wild and unruly kids, for having no authority, for raising a generation of entitled, lazy, spoiled miscreants.

It’s a war cry often heard when American kids make the news for bad behavior — stealing cars, setting fire to things, bullying — “It’s the parents’ fault! Kids need consequences for their actions!” Which is why I’ve been perplexed at the recent rash of American mothers who have been arrested for … drumroll, please … giving their kids consequences for their actions.

Let’s take a look at the two latest cases:

1. A 10-year-old Arkansas boy lost his bus privileges for the fifth time for causing a disturbance on the bus. As punishment, his mother made him walk the 4.6 miles to school. A security guard saw the boy walking across a parking lot on his own and called the cops. The mother now faces a $1,000 fine and possible jail time.  Seriously? I don’t know the area they lived in. Perhaps it’s a dangerous place for a 10-year-old to be by himself.

When I was 10, I rode my bike 5 miles to my friend’s house on a regular basis. My mother was never arrested. But I do know, that that mother was likely at her wit’s end and was trying to find the one consequence that would stick with this boy and teach him how to behave properly on a public school bus. A lot of mothers probably would have marched up to the school and stuck up for their son – How dare they suspend my angel from the bus? He surely would never do anything wrong! But this mother appears to believe in taking responsibility for your actions, and wanted to teach her son that very valuable lesson. And now she has a record.

2.     In January, an Atlanta mother was arrested for locking her two children (ages 9 and 11) outside of their apartment at 11 p.m. The children were barefoot. A neighbor called the police when she heard the kids banging on the door to be let back in. The weather was rainy, but it was in the 50s, not cold enough to be a serious health threat. Now, should these children have been in bed? Yes. Should a mother lock her own kids out of their house? Probably not. But can’t most mothers understand that feeling, when your kids have just driven you to the brink of sanity and all you want to do is get them out of your house? I know my brother, sister and I drove my mom to that cliff more than once in our childhood.

I’m not arguing that this woman chose the right punishment for her kids. However, can’t we have a little more understanding? Couldn’t the neighbor have knocked on the door and asked if everything was OK? Perhaps she could have taken the kids for 30 minutes while the mom collected herself. Did the cops need to get involved?

Obviously, child abuse is a serious and unfathomable offense. And people guilty of it should be arrested. But where is the line between punishment and crime? When is giving children consequences for their actions tantamount to child abuse? When they’re beaten senseless? Yes. Child abuse. When they’re forced to walk to school? I’m not so sure about that.

Could the mothers above have chosen different disciplinary actions for their kids? No doubt. Did they deserve to go to jail for the ones they chose? I just don’t think so. Parenting is hard enough, and while I may not agree with others’ parenting choices, I don’t feel like we have the right to judge them anymore than I want to be judged for my parenting choices.

The bottom line is: there’s no guidebook to perfect parenting. (If there is, please send me a copy!). I think most of us mothers and fathers have the intention to raise productive, responsible members of society — but how we get there is sometimes a roadmap of bumps, wrong turns and dead ends. And I think it’s frightening that we seem to have gotten to a place where a seemingly innocuous parenting mistake could land you in jail.

That’s much worse than 60 seconds in the corner.

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For more on Colleen Oakley, please check out her writer’s page on Facebook.

Global Mamas: Turkey

We’re profiling one mother from every country on the planet. (Current tally: 13 down, 179 countries to go!)

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Meet Güneş Güner IŞIK. She’s a 36-year-old fashion director for GQ Turkey. Now, instead of me telling your more about her, it’s way better to have her do it:

“I have eight years as mother; eight years as a wife, and 16 years as a creative. My funky son, Dara, is in the second grade. He’s one of these new weird kids who knows a bit too much. And he’s very creative.”

See what I mean? Fabulous.

Here’s her story …

Photo by Güneş Güner IŞIK

Life before baby …
It was a selfish life. I tried to keep the whole world revolving around me. I was always hectic and working, and if I was lucky enough to find some time for myself, I would spoil myself rotten! I would travel, get beauty treats, go partying.

I never thought about having a family of my own. I didn’t even dream about getting married.  I was just so into my professional life, none of that other stuff really ever entered my thoughts.

And my relationship to kids? They were almost like aliens to me. These little beings who cry on planes.

My ideas about motherhood …
I simply never pictured myself as a mother. But somehow — out of no where  – when I was 28, I started to crave a baby. A little boy with black olive eyes. I was dreaming about this little boy, dreaming of being a mother to this son. It’s so strange because I was single. I had recently broken up with my boyfriend.

Then I found out that my ex-boyfriends lost his mother. I tried to be there for him. We ended up taking a trip to the U.S., to New York and Las Vegas. We had lots of fun. Then I went back to my regular life, back to working as a creative director for an international brand, back to working seven days a week and traveling twice a week.  All of a sudden I was a out of energy. I went to the hospital. They kept me there to run tests, but couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong with me. Turns out, I was three months pregnant!

Even though I wasn’t married, I didn’t have any negative feelings about being pregnant. I just felt very ready to be a mother, and I looked forward to it. And when I found out I was having a boy, it made me even happier.

Then came baby …
I honestly did not have that incredible feeling the first moment I held my son. Maybe it was narcosis. But I started changing day by day.

At the beginning, my baby was too precious. I did not want anyone to even touch him. He was a difficult baby as well: did not sleep more than an hour until he was 2 years old. On top of everything, when I look back, the only feeling I remember  is joy and the biggest satisfaction of my life. It was such a unique feeling, a unique gift. I still call him “my  heaven.” He really is my heaven on earth.

The most challenging part of motherhood …
Being and learning to be a mother and a wife at the same time. Being patient with both my son and my husband is and was quite challenging. On top of a hectic day, coming back home needs even more energy. I feel like I need to be positive 24 hours a day, which is not easy.

Patience and empathy are still the most challenging things for me. I am stıll trying to find my boundaries on how to give, how much to give. My son is extremely curious, but conscious as well. And I’m trying to learn more and more everyday so I’m able to answer all his questions.

On balancing work and life …
I took a one-year break to be able to take good care of my son. After that, I started working as a creative director for a major company, carrying three different brands. I work fulltime, and I work hard. People are usually shocked to learn that I’m a mother!

I used to travel a lot and often worked overtime. When he was 3, 4 and 5 years old, my son adapted to my life. He was with my parents when I was traveling. I am so lucky to have my parents near to help. They even moved to a house closer to us to keep things easier for him and me. We also have a great nanny who welcomes our son home  from school. I usually get home around 8 p.m. My weekends are mostly dedicated to him, if I am not working. So I gave up on my social life instead of giving up my job.

Every year I promise him — and myself — to work less, but unfortunately the opposite happens. So honestly, there is no balance. :)

The best part about raising a child in Turkey …
Having my parents around us. Also, being in a city (Istanbul) that is modern, but traditional at the same time. It’s full of contrasts: east and west cultures, different cuisine, music, and literature.

The parts I wished were different …
I do still plan to take my son somewhere else because Turkey is still a developing country. The desire of consumption is too driven. It is not the right country to raise a more productive boy. Most of the students are raised to be too competitive. And art and sports — and joy, basically — are secondary subjects.

If we could jump into the DeLorean and race back in time …
I would tell myself: “Cuddle as much as you can!”

Adding Some Fresh and Bright

It’s been a solid week (more? Yesh!) since we’ve connected. Hoping all us well with you, friends. It’s been still a bit bumpy back here at The Ranch. Plus, The Youngster is going to half-days, which basically obliterates my office hours. Piecing it together, though. Slowly, we’re making progress, so … *shoulder shimmy, half-jazz hands aaaand  wink*

All that said, I just couldn’t let April move along any more than it already has without connecting with you folks. Plus, it’s Easter Egg Decoratin’ Time, y’all.

Have a safe and happy Easter and Passover Weekend. Talk soon.