Jonathan and I are firm believers in "rip the band-aid off" parenting. I first heard this phrase from my friend Tera. She was referring to having kids close in age rather than spacing them out (you know, to just "get it over with" as far as the difficult baby stage), but it also describes our parenting style quite well.
The last day I made bottles for Dane, he was 364 days old. His first birthday present to me was not having to make bottles anymore. No, he was not a fan of this. The first day he cried for about two hours in the afternoon. We didn't even realize that's what he was crying about at first since he had taken the first sippy cup of milk without even a strange look. The next day, he fussed for about 45 minutes and it was very obvious that the reason he wasn't happy had everything to do with the offending sippy cup. But I didn't give in. On day three, it was as if he'd never remembered how awesome bottles were. Sippy cups were now officially "in" in Dane's book.
We did the same thing with the pacifier. I had heard some pretty awesome ideas about cutting the pacifier so that the suction would be lost and the child would no longer be interested in it. I was worried that he'd choke on a piece of it since half the time it was used as a chew toy. I had also heard variations of "giving the pacifiers away" (to baby angels, baby ducks, the paci fairy, etc) but I wanted the thing gone shortly after his first birthday and he didn't have the reasoning skills to understand something like that at a year old. We did not make our goal of losing the pacifier before he was 13 months old, but one Saturday, when Dane was 15 months old, we decided it was time. We had stalled for long enough. We had a rare gap in teething, he wasn't sick or having any asthma episodes, and we didn't have anything pressing that particular weekend. So we raided the house and packed them all up. That night, he fell asleep without even noticing that anything was missing. It was almost too good to be true. And it was. Two hours later, he woke up in a rage because there weren't the typical 4 to 6 pacifiers in his crib. He eventually fell asleep again, but not before I almost threw in the towel. Thankfully, Jonathan convinced me it really was time and the three of us made it through the next two weeks of poor sleep with nothing more than dark circles under our eyes.
Car trips without the pacifier were a little different. It took him three full months to learn not to freak out in the car without his pacifier. A few weeks into pacifier-free living, we were on the way to the zoo with family. Dane screamed like he was being subjected to some rare form of torture; I laughed because crying wasn't working; and Jonathan chanted this mantra: "I will not feed my baby to a lion. I will not feed my baby to a bear. I will not feed my baby to an alligator." This only served to make Dane more angry and my laugh more sinister. In typical Dane style, he fell asleep just as we found a parking spot.
Last month, over Memorial Day Weekend, Jonathan and I decided it was time to lose the diapers. Dane has had one diaper rash after another since he was four days old and we decided that even if it meant chasing after Dane and cleaning up a constant stream of pee until he was 5, we were ready to make this work. And for three days, we holed up in our 1200 square foot home and cleaned up puddle after puddle after puddle. And it really wasn't that awful. Amazingly enough, we had fun together. By no means is he 100% potty trained. He has the occasional day without an accident, but that usually means we're in for quite the mess the following morning. We're no experts at potty training, but I know this: Dane hasn't had the first problem with diaper rash and we sure are spending less at Target these days... well, on diapers at least :)
The last day I made bottles for Dane, he was 364 days old. His first birthday present to me was not having to make bottles anymore. No, he was not a fan of this. The first day he cried for about two hours in the afternoon. We didn't even realize that's what he was crying about at first since he had taken the first sippy cup of milk without even a strange look. The next day, he fussed for about 45 minutes and it was very obvious that the reason he wasn't happy had everything to do with the offending sippy cup. But I didn't give in. On day three, it was as if he'd never remembered how awesome bottles were. Sippy cups were now officially "in" in Dane's book.
We did the same thing with the pacifier. I had heard some pretty awesome ideas about cutting the pacifier so that the suction would be lost and the child would no longer be interested in it. I was worried that he'd choke on a piece of it since half the time it was used as a chew toy. I had also heard variations of "giving the pacifiers away" (to baby angels, baby ducks, the paci fairy, etc) but I wanted the thing gone shortly after his first birthday and he didn't have the reasoning skills to understand something like that at a year old. We did not make our goal of losing the pacifier before he was 13 months old, but one Saturday, when Dane was 15 months old, we decided it was time. We had stalled for long enough. We had a rare gap in teething, he wasn't sick or having any asthma episodes, and we didn't have anything pressing that particular weekend. So we raided the house and packed them all up. That night, he fell asleep without even noticing that anything was missing. It was almost too good to be true. And it was. Two hours later, he woke up in a rage because there weren't the typical 4 to 6 pacifiers in his crib. He eventually fell asleep again, but not before I almost threw in the towel. Thankfully, Jonathan convinced me it really was time and the three of us made it through the next two weeks of poor sleep with nothing more than dark circles under our eyes.
Car trips without the pacifier were a little different. It took him three full months to learn not to freak out in the car without his pacifier. A few weeks into pacifier-free living, we were on the way to the zoo with family. Dane screamed like he was being subjected to some rare form of torture; I laughed because crying wasn't working; and Jonathan chanted this mantra: "I will not feed my baby to a lion. I will not feed my baby to a bear. I will not feed my baby to an alligator." This only served to make Dane more angry and my laugh more sinister. In typical Dane style, he fell asleep just as we found a parking spot.
Last month, over Memorial Day Weekend, Jonathan and I decided it was time to lose the diapers. Dane has had one diaper rash after another since he was four days old and we decided that even if it meant chasing after Dane and cleaning up a constant stream of pee until he was 5, we were ready to make this work. And for three days, we holed up in our 1200 square foot home and cleaned up puddle after puddle after puddle. And it really wasn't that awful. Amazingly enough, we had fun together. By no means is he 100% potty trained. He has the occasional day without an accident, but that usually means we're in for quite the mess the following morning. We're no experts at potty training, but I know this: Dane hasn't had the first problem with diaper rash and we sure are spending less at Target these days... well, on diapers at least :)
Love your blog! I can't imagine - yet - how difficult it will be to stick by those guns through the crying and temper tantrums. Good to know that it can be done! :)
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