I don't have it in me

In my ninth month of pregnancy, I decided to push aside the 50 books I had on childbirth that were toppling off my bedside table to make room for one book on babies (Note to self: should have read more books on babies, fewer books on childbirth - childbirth lasts a few hours and is, quite frankly, a gazillion times easier than childrearing but the kid stays forever). As I read about "sleep training," it seemed really reasonable to me. You let the kid cry it out for x number of minutes the first night, a little longer the next night, a little longer after that...until finally he just learned to sleep. Logical. Reasonable. Rational. I could do that. Yes, it might be a bit uncomfortable but I'd just go in another room and watch some TV. Easy, right? Well it's one thing to READ about it and another to do it. I can't. I just can't. I don't have it in me. I don't rush in at the first cry but I can't let him cry for more than a few minutes. I'll definitely let him whine it out. Whining is not crying. Whining says "I'm mildly displeased" or "I'm annoyed." I can let my child feel mild displeasure or annoyance. But I can't make him suffer and there are just certain cries of suffering that one can't ignore. In doing research on cry-it-out, I've read of people letting their children cry it out only to go in and find them wide awake but slumped sadly in their beds with tears dried on their cheeks and a blank look of having had their spirits broken at such a young age. Akin to those orphans in the Ukraine who've never been picked up or loved. One woman said she found her daughter like that and then had to hold her for the next two days to get her back to normal. I don't want Dylan to fall asleep out of sheer exhausted despondency or feeling like "Where are they? Why aren't they coming to get me this time?" But I need sleep, people. What do I do? I've read everything out there! I'm waiting until six months to make a decision. Then maybe he'll be ready. For his parents to "torture" him to sleep. Dammit, it's not fair. Some people's kids just start sleeping at three months and they don't have to go through this "sleep training" crap.

Fan

Everyone (except me) in my family is a crazy sports fan. I've always liked playing sports but I'm not big on spectator sports. I get bored watching. Or listening. I get excited for big events like the Olympics or the World Cup but, in all honesty, I have no real team allegiances. There's nothing like hearing a baseball game in the car to give me a massive headache. I can remember long car trips to Florida with my family where we'd have to find that one channel that broadcast the Cincinnati Reds games. Once when I was 13 I drank a whole bottle of Nyquil so I'd be able to sleep in the car and escape hearing the crack of a bat and talk of RBIs for what seemed like the entire 20+ hours. All the Nyquil did was make me loopy and I don't remember sleeping. Anyway, when grandma Mimi came in February, she had to bring gear to make sure Dylan was appropriately decked out, complete with pacifier clip (even though Dylan takes no pacifier). Uncle Rob is a diehard Ohio State football fan so this is for him. Who knows what Dylan will be into? If he's anything like his father, he'll be a Milan soccer fan and have to wake up (this is assuming he ever learns to sleep...) at ungodly hours on Sundays to watch Formula One or Moto GP in some far-flung Asian country. And if he does get into motorsports, I've already told Cristiano that Dylan is NOT getting a motorbike at 15. Since we are in Milan, I'm trying to push him toward fashion. Maybe he'll be a future Project Runway contestant. Now that would be cool!

Buona forchetta

rice cereal
Originally uploaded by michellanea

Waiting around for laundry to dry out on the line. Three sets of crib sheets out there, it's about to storm and if things don't dry, Dylan will be sleeping on a sheetless mattress tonight. We've already vomited on two pairs of baby jeans this morning. The two pairs that took four days to dry this week...We had a check-up with the pediatrician this morning and things are going really well. Dylan's eczema is pretty under control except for a patch on the back of his head that the doctor convinced me to put cortisone cream on so that he'll stop scratching and making himself bleed. I'd been avoiding the cortisone but it seems we have no other choice. I asked the pediatrician what to do about Dylan's horrible sleeping habits. Last night, for example, he woke up every two hours and wouldn't go back to sleep without breastfeeding. And during the day he never, ever sleeps. By the end of the day, he's an overstimulated, overtired little man. The doctor said he should be sleeping 12 hours at night and at least two or three hours during the day. Yeah, OK, I already knew that. She didn't have any suggestions for how to get him to sleep during the day but she said I should let him cry a bit at night when he wakes up. I asked how long I should let him cry and she said "Until he goes back to sleep." When I told her that this is a kid with stamina who has been known to cry for seven and eight hours straight even when being carried around (much less being left in his crib where he REALLY gets hysterical if not picked up in a timely manner), she basically just shrugged her shoulders. I'm more frustrated than ever.

Today we tried some rice cereal (see video). I tasted it myself and it was pretty gross but being the "buona forchetta" (in Italian when someone is a good eater, they are said to have a "good fork") he is, Dylan scarfed it right up.

Beach weekend

Some pictures from when we were at the beach a few weeks ago.

La famiglia

Mom and Dyl on the beach in Cinquale

Papì and Dyl at lunch in Forte dei Marmi

Natalie and Gabriele came down for the day

Stuff

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I don't really hate you. I'm sorry. I was trying to be tongue-in-cheek. You know, sleep deprivation humor. But I think I took it a little too far. Mea culpa.

One thing I'm noticing about having a baby in Italy as opposed to in the U.S. is that in the U.S. it seems to be all about the gear. The stuff. Everyone in the U.S. seems to have the swing, the jumper, the bouncy seat, the Exersaucer, the cool trio stroller. Some people even warm their wet wipes with a special wet-wipe warmer. Most of these things don't even exist here and people tend to live without just fine. They breastfeed without Boppies. They clean their baby's bottom with little gauze strips and soap and water. Many of the gifts I received after Dylan was born were hand-me-downs and used toys. And that's cool too. I don't like stuff just for stuff's sake and I tend to try to avoid waste and excess as much as I can. The one thing I truly, truly miss from the U.S. since I've had a baby is the clothes dryer. I know it's horrible for the environment but, um, it'd be really convenient especially in the winter and when it rains a lot like it did this past week (side note: the clothes Dylan threw up on before being admitted to the hospital last Saturday just got dry yesterday - a week later!). In any case, all of this is to say that I really had to fight Cristiano to get Dylan a Jumparoo (see video). We've decided that we'll hide it when our Italian friends come over.

I've found a website that sells a small selection of big-name American toys (no Exersaucer, however) and was able to procure Dylan a Jumparoo. Despite the weak dollar, everything costs double what it'd cost in the U.S. But what are you going to do?

I hate everybody

Just in case it seemed like Dylan had solved his "sleep issues" by sleeping on his stomach, I am sad (and nobody is sadder than I am) to report that this is not the case. It seems you can still wake up lots of times even if you sleep on your stomach. The rest of the week after the big eight-hour stretch we saw spotty sleep and last night was the topper. He must have slept 45 minutes between 9:30 p.m. and 5 a.m. The rest of the time mom and dad were passing him off as he wailed...and wailed....and wailed. We tried everything - even all the "bad habits" they say to avoid. Putting him in our bed, putting him in the stroller and pushing him around, walking him, rocking him. Everything but CIO. I won't let him cry it out. He's too little. Cristiano doesn't agree with me but I'm the mamma and I get the final veto on that. CIO requires that you walk into the room periodically and say things like "Mom and dad love you. They just want you to learn to sleep." He's only four months old and barely knows who mom and dad are. How could he understand why the people who've cared for him up to now would suddenly stop responding to his cries? I fear for our trip to the U.S. this summer. How is this kid who sleeps so horribly going to respond to jet lag and long plane and car trips? I'm grumpy with the world.

Happy Anniversary, mom and dad

We spent our three-year wedding anniversary taking turns walking a hysterical (and heavy) baby around. Dylan screamed red-faced and flailed. I cried. Cristiano wanted to throw us both off the balcony. And then something amazing happened. Dylan slept from midnight to 8 a.m. However, there is a huge BUT. He slept on his stomach. As everyone knows these days: "Tummy to play, back to sleep."

But Dylan has learned to roll and there's absolutely no stopping him now. Lately when I put him on his back, he immediately grabs his feet and rolls himself Weeble-style on to his tummy. In fact, I woke up at 4 a.m. unaccustomed to the (fabulous, actually) sensation of four consecutive hours of sleep and was horrified to find him on his tummy. We tried to roll him on his back but he fussed and promptly rolled right back on his stomach and went back to sleep. Short of one of us staying up all night to make sure he stays on his back, I'm not sure what we can do. I doubt one of those positioning pillows would do anything. This is a baby who has very strong ideas about what he wants and what he doesn't want, and I don't see him with a positioning pillow or swaddled.

The best anniversary gift of all was that we were home from the hospital. Yes, Dylan and I spent the weekend in the hospital feverish and vomiting with the nastiest stomach flu I can ever remember having. He was admitted on Saturday and I was at home trying to pump breastmilk in between vomiting and lying-on-the-bathroom-floor-wishing-for-death sessions. I dragged my weak carcass to the hospital to visit him and the nurses convinced me to stay and breastfeed him. Caring for a sick infant while you are sick yourself in a loud pediatric hospital ward (while sharing a room with a hyperactive six-year-old constantly trying to paw at your baby with his germy hands) aint fun. This is supposed to get easier, right?

Success

Dylan ate his pears! He got the hang of it on the second bite (see video below - as you'll note, mom didn't comb her hair for the occasion but oh well...). Will having some solid foods in him make him sleep better at night? I'll report back. He's still waking up every two to three hours at night to feed, and we've kind of resigned ourselves to this just being "how it is" and being pretty much exhausted all the time. Dylan also doesn't sleep much - if anything - during the day, so this is really a 24/7 gig, and I am not sure what has motivated me to kill myself making my own baby food aside from stubbornly not wanting to give my kid overly sugared or preservative-filled crap. At least he eats.

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Oh, how life changes. The baby-food maker has dethroned the espresso machine.

We've got pears for the next two weeks!

I was told there'd be pears

We got the all clear on Dylan's food allergy tests yesterday (thank God - I'd been such a stress case about this whole eczema and pontential food allergy situation) so we can go ahead introducing solids little by little. Yesterday we put the high chair together and today I'm getting out my fantastic baby-food-making machine and whipping up some pears.

Papi makes me laugh

Mama's Boy

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Or not.

American Boy

I keep singing this to Dylan.

"I really want to come kick it with you...Would you be my American boy?"

This is how I roll at the beach

It was between one of those blue gingham flouncy sun hats and this bandana-style look at the market, and my mom bought this one. Dad says I look like Berlusconi (not a compliment or a reflection of political preferences in our household) but a guy's got to stay protected from the elements. Happy Labor Day (in Europe), everybody!