Love at first sight

My friend's baby is a month younger than mine and he points at things and says a real word or two. Granted, my friend is a kindergarten teacher and is armed with experience to get the kid to sit still and learn. She reads to him and he even has a favorite book.

Reading to my son is a joke. He wants to eat the book or rub it on the floor really hard, like he is taking a stain off the carpet. When he is not fighting me over the possession of the book, I am left alone reading about right feet, left feet (Dr. Seuss) by myself, while my kid is half way through climbing stairs on the other room.

(by the way, I could totally be a children's book writer)

He does says "hey, dad!" or "daddy!", especially at 5:30 in the morning, which I think is awesome, because I can shove my husband off the bed and say, "he is calling YOU!"

My friend says that I should point at things and say their names, even if he doesn't repeat or attempt to repeat after me, and that I should keep on trying to read to him... Maybe buy a sturdier book that he can't digest...

When she says that, we are hanging out by the beach, where the beach bums take naps on the benches. I point and say to baby, with excited, high pitch baby voice, "HOME-LESS! That's a homeless!" 

At home I dig out a Thomas, the train book because everyone says baby boys love it, and flip through the pages before settling with the hyper crawling creature. I can't hardly keep up with all the characters myself. They all look the same to me. Some are even the same color, expect fatter or slightly shorter. I conclude Thomas is a lost case for my unfocused little one. 

I suddenly feel a milky breath on my neck and a baby voice, smiling, "hiiiiiii!" to the book. Matthew is instantly taken by Thomas' cheerful face on the cover. He holds the book with care and giggles at it. He doesn't chew on Thomas nor use it to clean the floor.  When I read about the trains and the station and the dumb story line, he just sits there, playing with his toes and smiling. 

What is it about Thomas that enchants little guys so much?

The kid in a bubble

I was about to write on how the baby has six teeth coming through, which makes me long for a glass of wine at nine am and have wet dreams of going back to work.

He follows me around whining, and when I am doing anything besides looking directly at him, he gets behind me and smacks my butt (like right now, I'm trying to finish this sentence standing up and having my butt smacked by a fussy creature).

Come to think of it, husband and baby are a LOT alike.

Then I read about the shootings in Connecticut and now I am deciding to home school. I sit on the floor with the baby as we share a string cheese, which I can't feed him fast enough, before I get smacked on the leg, and decide we will not go to malls or movie theaters anymore, for that matter. We are not flying either. We are staying in a bubble until he is old and I'm dead.
 

Matt and his mat

Husband is always taking the letters off the baby's mat and making up words with them as he gives them to baby. 

"Y! Y! Y!" he lifts the letter y, "Y is for YELLOW." Matt grabs the big letter y and chews on it, so I always thought, what a silly game. The baby will never really learn this way, until one day, when he was happily sitting in his car seat and I hear him say, "whywhywhywhywhyyyyyyyyy"

So I decided to play this game today, as he ripped the letters apart, crawled around, and touched other buttons, with an attention span of minus two seconds; something else he inherited from me. 

Here is how it went, as I picked letters randomly:

"V! V! V! V is for very, very hyper baby!"

"C! C! C! C is for coffee!!! Momma needs some coffee!"

"D! D! D! D is for DVD player, which you shouldn't touch!"

"N! N! N! N is for naps, which you no longer want to take, like ever!"

"A! A! A! A is for aggravated!"

"R! R! R! R is for Ritalin!"

The big elephant in the middle of the baby's room

There's one thing that NO ONE talks about or wants to talk about when it comes to having a baby.

Most of us rather post our idyllic pictures and videos of our idyllic lives on Facebook. It's easier to edit life online. The Internet makes new parents seem like we have it all together and photoshop can mask not only our flaws, but even baby acne. 

My friend Mary was the only one who really warned me about this one thing. Better yet, she gave me a book, called, "The Mask of Motherhood," when I told her I was trying to conceive.

At the time I thought this was a negative point of view of men, marriage and babies. However, here is the truth that I've found: when you have a baby, the shock of the shifting dynamic between a couple makes most women want to rip their husband's face off from time to time and may make men want to escape, whether through work, house projects, alcohol, hobbies, and transgressions. Some actually escape, like, in a car.

No one prepares you for this. In the book Mary gave me, the author mentions that the older a woman is when she has her first baby, or the more independent financially and emotionally... In other words, the more she knows herself, the more this new identity; the motherhood identity, shakes her to the core and leaves her humbled and somewhat lost.

Make that shock a little harder when woman no longer works and therefore "doesn't contribute to society." And, by the way, this is the most intense job I've ever had, because it never stops. Mothers don't clock out. 

My friends who work feel that shift in identity too, maybe even more than I, because even though they may work as many hours as their husbands, they are still a mother, and mother's got shit to do.

Now enters marriage and what is left of it. Thankfully I live in a generation where men actually want (and look forward to) helping with the baby. I am lucky to have married a super father. I can't imagine a man that is more hands on with a baby than my husband, but even then we headbutt often enough. The truth is: I think we're just tired.

Here are some insights on marriage that I've had of late, so my friends contemplating the whole package can enter it a little more informed:

- Marriage love is not linear. It has peaks and valleys, and the trick (and what is tricky) is to believe in the ebb and flow of the ocean when the wave is crashing. 

- It's better to stay together. 

- Living together is hard. Period. You could live with mother Theresa and eventually get annoyed with all her goodness.

- The closer we are to someone, the more we know what pisses the other one off, and in the power struggle we get pretty good at using it as weapons, consciously or not. That's just a fact.

- Don't compare your spouse to someone else, because that other person also has some other quality that would drive you crazy, and your spouse has a combination of qualities that most others dont. That's why you got married.

- In the negotiation of lifestyle, whoever compromises the most will resent the most, so doing something you don't want for the sake of the other person is often a good idea.

- If you say the "D" word often enough, your spouse may take you up on it. I learned this from my first marriage. 

- Find time for sex.

Dada

Me (to baby): say "MAMA"
Baby: dada
Me: no, MAMA
Baby: DADA
Me: mamamamamamamama
Baby: dadadadadadadada
Me: mama
Baby: dada
Me: MAMA
Baby: DADA!

Husband enters the room.

Baby: DADADADADADADADA!

:o/

Well, there goes nothing

I wanted to make a Christmas card with my baby playing with Christmas lights. I have everything I need: cool camera, christmas lights, reflective floor, and cute baby.

Here is what I had in mind:

Check out the first baby

I studied my dummy books on photography, feeling dumber by the page. You know that feeling, when you read a paragraph once and go, "say what?"

I did you tube, google, pinterest and picked my photographer friend's brains.

I went into the dark with Christmas lights, tripod, camera, books, and stuffed animals posing as baby. I tried every apperture, shutter speed, iso and other photography jargons of which I already forgot what the heck they are for.

I'm ready.

"Bring the creature!" I yell for husband, downstairs. "And undress him. He should look innocent."

Undressed, the creature is placed on the floor, and at the sight of said Christmas lights, he screams bloody murder. This is probably the most terrifying thing that ever happened to him. We try playing with the lights ourselves, forcing him to touch them, to no avail. He cries harder, tears running down his baby face.

We turn on the lights of the room and turn off the evil Christmas lights. Baby still stares at them, and then at me, hiccuping, with a face expression that says, "what the f was THAT?"

Now, how is it that professional photographers do it? It seems that if that was my career, it would be mostly of outtakes.

Anyone has a simpler, less traumatic idea for a Christmas picture?

Genetics (part 2)

Husband often says, "I dont know where he gets his big head from. Must be from your side of the family." "I dont know where he got those big cheeks from. Must be from your side of family." "I dont know where he got that nose, or those ears. Must be from your side of the family."

Yeah, it must be.

Daddy and Matt

He is such a baby

The competitive mom seems fairly nice at first. She will ask you matter of fact if your kid is doing this or that and, because you are used to comparing notes (I said, comparing notes, as in, is my kid developing ok kinda way), you answer. Competitive mom then unleashes her insecure, annoying, bitch of a monster and puts her kid all the way on his tiny, little pedestal, because he is the tallest, healthiest, smartest of the bunch. Lets face it: what competitive mom is actually saying is, "I'm better than you."

And what I'm thinking is, "who gives a shit?"

Although I have been guilty of comparing kids, mostly because I want to make sure mine is ok, when competitive mom says, "I can only imagine what my wonderful, God's gift to humankind child will be doing when he gets older. " 

Ok, she didn't say that, but that's how she sounds. I want to tell her, "he will be smoking pot to escape your living vicariously through him."

I look at her baby. He is slouched and lifeless, his head tucked in a way that his face makes three chins. He looks pretty blobby to me. Like a blob baby. Meanwhile my kid is trying to entice him. He bangs shit around and passes by blob baby screaming. Then he stops and looks at blob baby, as if to say, "come on, blob baby, follow me and let's get our fingers stuck inside the DVD player. It makes momma scream 'no' and she makes a funny looking face. It's fun!" Blob baby looks unphaser, so Matthew gives up.

Competitive mom is talking about blob's achievements that to me sound pretty standard. Like rolling over. Who gives a rats ass if your kid is rolling fucking over? He should have started it months ago, bitch.

Then she asks, "What is Matt doing these days?" I look at him and he is staring back at us, chewing paper. Where did he find it?

I want to tell her that he is walking sideways on his walker because he hasn't figured out that humans walk forward. I also want to tell her I tried to get him to clap his hands this morning while holding his little wrists. He clammed his little fingers shut, so the knuckles hit each other, which made him giggle. Maybe he is just not the clapping hands kinda guy.

I just say, "he is into biting furniture right now."

Competitive mom says a sympathetic, "oh."

Later on husband asks, "How is so-and-so and her baby?"

I say, "We can't hang out anymore. Her baby is going to fucking Harvard next year. Or maybe it's Yale? I can't remember."

"You need to stop cussing," husband says.

"...and meanwhile Matt is just sitting there, chewing shit."

"Yeah, he is such a baby!" husband laughs.

"I know!"

Evolution of friendship

Remember when you were little, and to make a new friend all you had to do was show up in a playground, or approach a group of kids and just take off running with them when they did? Then you would ask each other's name and tell your mom a few hours later that you have a new best friend?

As you got older, though, especially as a teen, you think no one gets you, except a few select friends, and you start to understand the meaning of clique. In college you are friends with everybody. Everywhere there are friends to be had. Everyone is so cool.

Then comes life after college and all you hear in the friendship department is crickets and tumbleweeds. People move out, move on and you are left with coworkers. Coworkers usually suck (not you, Julie; you're awesome). You wonder where all those many friends went and what is wrong with you. Why can't you have a million friends, like you used to? You come to terms that this is adult life: you have a select group of buddies and everyone is too busy.

That is, until you have kids. 

You could be walking in a store, any store, your kid in your arms, and you notice another mom with a kid about your kid's age in her arms. You give each other that knowing smile. Her smile says, "I know, right?" And your smile says, "Me too!" You tell her her kid is adorable, because that's what we all say to each other to break the ice, even if the kid looks like a science experiment, and if the line to the cashier is long enough you are in each other's Facebook page by the time you leave. 

I have been blessed to have met in this last year or so since pregnancy the most amazing women. Making friends with other moms is a whole underground and surprisingly warm and easy world that non-moms have yet to find. We get each other. We cry and laugh with each other. Our hairs are a mess, our bodies are not the same, and we wonder if we are ever going to focus and have a proper career again. As a matter of fact, we look back and think our priorities are shockingly different from that pre-pregnancy woman. We think of that version of ourselves as someone with an empty spot. We think she was lost and looking for it in the wrong places. We talk about babies and babies and babies and it never gets tiring. 

To all my mommy friends, especially you, Nicole. Thank you for your friendship!

Matthew 10 X 0 Me

I have coffee spilled in both the baby and I while I lay in a puddle of it. Baby smacks my face and cries in my ear. He wants to cuddle.

Because I just pulled my back trying to stop the baby from grabbing the coffee mug out of my hand; the coffee I've been dreaming of sipping for the last three hours of battling needy, little arms, I can't move.

I try to roll to one side and almost stand, but baby grabs my hair from behind and brings me back down. Is this a fight?

Is this really happening? Did I get knocked out by a baby? I wonder, staring at the ceiling.

I try rolling the other way, dodging evil, little fingers, but they are swift, so he grabs on to my earring, pulling my ear down and almost ripping the skin. He steals the earring. I try to pry strong, clammy fingers to retrieve earrings, but I'm back on the floor, my back quivering in pain. He can have the earring. He probably ate it by now.

Note to self: never wear earrings ever again.

Breathing, I count to three to try and stand up, and baby pokes both of my eyes, climbing my head.

Meanwhile my mom watches from Skype. I tell her to call 911, that my kid is possessed.

"He is just teething," she says.

I give him Tylenol, when I could use some myself, while he grabs the skin of my neck.

"He is tired," I try to convince myself and I place him in his crib. In the safety of the kitchen, I now look at his monitor and he is staring back at me, through the camera. Creepy, little fella.

He just started screaming again.

Somebody help me!!!

How many teeth do human beings have again? And how many more of those have to come through??

Eating my words

A few years ago I sat in my friend's living room feeling dizzy, overwhelmed and with what felt like the beginning of a migraine. 

She had four small children. The television blasted some noisy, obnoxious cartoon character, and the story line was an affront to my intelligence. I made a mental note, "My kid is never going to watch this kind of shit."

The house was covered in toys and baby parafernalia. The children ran wild, screaming, and my friend... I don't think she had washed herself in days. She was barefoot, and I caught myself judging that, "I will never allow my feet to get crusty like this." I also thought, "If I ever have a baby, they will have a designated room or corner and that's where they will play, not the whole entire house, and they will not scream like this."

Then I had a very rational, genius insight, as I left to go get some migraine medication, "I'm never having children."

As I sit here on the floor, on a baby mat that is taking my entire living room, watching Barney while examining my crusty feet, I wonder if Barney's friend will confess that he broke the toy. 

I sip my coffee and tell baby, "I hope that little shit tells the truth to Barney." Baby doesn't hear what I say because at the moment he had to do one of his random screams that he does just for the hell of it.

Ever since he discovered the pitches his voice can make, he practices it at any place and any time. He doesn't seem to understand English, nor Portuguese when I say "no." If I look stern, he thinks I'm just funny looking and laughs. 

Because the only living creatures I had raised have been dogs, I catch myself wondering if I should roll up a newspaper and hit it the floor by him to make my point.

At the grocery store, I've always been a proud mom of a quiet and friendly boy that looked around and smiled at strangers. I thought with my buttons that the screaming kids were kids of bad parents and that because I am awesome, my kid just observed the world in baby wonder. 

Baby has one pet peeve now, though: when I don't let him eat my grocery list, he now does this "I'm gonna scream until the child protective services comes" shriek. It all started when he thought it was funny to try and steal it from my hand and I thought, fine, eat it. A few minutes later I have to turn the kid upside down, my fingers down his throat, on the cashiers line to pay for the groceries, to retrieve the munched up list before he completely choked.

The other day he was trying to steal it again when I jokingly grab his little hand and say, "I'm gonna get your little hand!" Of course that random shriek comes out and the girl standing next to me gives me that look. I've been that girl. I know what that look means. It means, "control your kid," or "what's wrong with your son?" or simply, "don't grab his hand if that's going to upset him!" I want to tell her he doesn't usually care when I grab his hand like this, but I don't see the point of explaining myself. 

I'm already eating my words, anyway. 

Oh, and in case you're wondering, the feet get crusty because I can't wear shoes around the baby. He thinks they are chew toys. 

The baby mop

I have an idea for a product and I think I'd make MILLIONS! It's called, "The baby mop." 

This idea came to me when I was cleaning my floors and realized that ever since creature became mobile, that it takes me a lot less time to mop everything.

I wondered, puzzled (picture my scratching my head, dumb look on my face), where the dust went, when I realized that baby's clothes have been filthy and his hands always have a wig worth of hairs tangled in little baby fingers (because I shed like a dog).

Btw, remember when I was a germaphobe and didn't let anyone touch my baby?

Anywho, so the product would be a mop attached to baby's clothing and especially knees with some smelling good febreeze stuff on it. 

The infomercial would have a happy, manicured momma reading a magazine while baby mopped, I mean, crawled, around. 

The slogan would be, "Happy baby, happy momma, clean home!" 

The end of the infomercial would have a happy family eating dinner and momma would even have her hair done. The baby would be asleep soundly from all the mopping, I mean, crawling. 

What do you think?

Nobody puts baby in a corner

I  can't blog anymore because my kid is freakin mobile.

Gone are the days I could just plop him in a corner with a few toys and get some other s*** done.

No more hugs

I was a weird baby.

From day one since freed from my mom's belly, I slept through the night. I walked and talked by nine months old. I could make elaborate sentences and manipulate mom into letting me sleep on her bed with words by twelve months. By two years of age I could ride a bicycle without supporting wheels, which made me look like a circus monkey, mind you. I didn't like to be rocked or held to fall asleep. I'd cry and throw a fit if my mom tried, and only slept soundly if placed in my crib and left the heck alone.

To this day I want to be left the heck alone. I've been known to tell husband, in a sleepy state, while he tried to cuddle one night, "Honey, let's just hug tomorrow. It's sleepy time."

I hurt my husband's feelings and payback is a bitch. My baby no longer wants to be held or rocked to sleep. He will pull my hair, wiggle himself out of my arms, grunt, scratch my neck, punch me on the face, call me fat. That is, until I lay him in his crib. He rolls to his belly, grunting one more time as if to say, "now leave me the heck alone, mom" and he is out. I am left looking at him feeling like a cat drenched in water by surprise and wanting a hug.

We've got the giggles

He's got momma's personality in that we find the silliest things funny :oD (and we eat like vaccum cleaners).

Lullaby

Why is it that every time I am singing to baby, he takes the paci out of his mouth and tries to shove it into mine? Is it baby code for, 'shut the f*** up?'

Parallel universe

There's a parallel universe where all my keys, hair bands, headphones, and sunglasses end up. There's a whole other world, in another dimension, where all they have is Mariana's tiny belongings. Now I think that Matt's fifteen pacifiers are there too. I swear they fall from his mouth, bounce on the floor and go straight through a warm hole into another universe.

Noah's arc

If this was a real job, I'd call baby and say,

"Hey, baby, how are you? How was your night? Are you still rolling over a gazillion times and waking up crying, freaking out?... Oh, ok... Well, mommy, can't come to work today. She is sick and very tired. As a matter of fact, she is worried she may sneeze on you and get you sick. Why dont you feed yourself, bathe yourself, and play with your toys in your crib all day? Momma is calling in sick today."

Except this is not a real job, so as I lay on the floor and baby sits by my head and slaps my face for the fun of it while screaming happy screams, I wish someone would just shoot me. On the face.

I put on a Brazilian children's record (that's now a cd), called "Noah's Arc" and sing quietly to the songs of my childhood, going to my mental happy place, where the rivers are made of chocolate.

Baby thinks that the duck quacking from the duck song is the most hilarious thing and giggles at the stereo, as if it's a person singing to him.

The music gets calmer, though, and he slowly settles on the pillow next to mine and together we just look at the ceiling, enjoying the song.

I've never seen baby this calm and I conclude that Noah's arc is the solution to all my problems. That is, until the cats get in the arc. Those damn cats.

Atchoo.

The new strangers - good article!

Tricky people

Above is a link to an interesting article on keeping children away from molesters.

Brain farts continue

I just poured orange juice on my dinner plate.

Nap and sleep chart - this is so useful!!!

Nap and sleep chart

Here is a copy from what's in the link above:

"Fyi- the chart posted here is what is required for the child to be consistently well-rested and STTN (whatever that means for her age). It's not what's normal or common. I would say that it's more normal and common for many infants even at 1 year to rarely sleep longer than 3-4hr stretches and may want (not need) to nurse all night still. This chart is not aimed at helping parents get their child within those "normal" ranges but to guide them, should they wish, to achieve the optimal conditions for optimal sleep." -BGM

I know it seems like a minefield. But simply put, once you are in tune with your baby you learn quickly why things are happening and how to resolve them. -Bel213

Age (mo.)	Max Wake Time (in hrs)	Avg. daily sleep requirement (in hrs)	Avg. Max TWT (total daytime awake time) -- Subtract as needed for NF/NW/OT, depending on age	Avg. hours of night sleep (not including NW) in order to be well-rested enough to “STTN”*	“STTN” definition (cut-off for first feed / cut-off for next feed)	Typical # of naps**	Limit each nap length (in hrs)	Max daily total nap amount in order to prevent day/night confusion (in hrs)	To preserve night sleep and to avoid day/night confusion,end naps by***:	Recommended wait time (in min) before responding to nightwakings****
<2	0.75-1	16-20	4-8	11	--	4+	3	--	--	10
3	1.5	15.5 – 18	6-8.5	11	4+/2.5-4/2.5-4	4	3	--	5:00pm	10
4	1.75-2	15.5	8.5	11-12	5+/3.5-4	4-3	2.5?	4.5	4:30pm	10
5	2	15	9	11-12	6+/3.5-4	3	2	4	4:00pm	10
6	2.5###	14.5	9.5	11-12	7+/4#	3-2	2	3.5	4:00pm	15
7	2.75	14-14.5	9.5-10	11-12	7+/4	3-2	2	3.25	4:00pm	15
8	3	14-14.5	9.5-10	11-12	12+##	3-2	2	3.25	4:00pm	15
9	3	14	10	11-12	12+	2	2	3	4:00pm	15
10-11	3-4	14	10	11-12	12+	2	2	3	4:00pm	15-20
12-14	3-4 (2 naps) / 4.5-6 (1 nap)	13.5-13.75	10.25-10.5	11-12	12+	2-1	2/3	3	4:00pm	15-20
15-18	5-6.5	13-13.5	10.5-11	11-12	12+	1	3	3	4:00pm?	15-20
19-23					12+	1			4:00pm?	15-20
24		12.5	11.5		12+	1	2?	2?	4:00pm?	15-20

(The above chart is just a starting guide with average numbers. Your LO may be on the lower end or higher end, but usually within 30 min. Numbers will vary based on your LO’s critical bedtime and whether he/she is a 10/11/12 or 13 hr night sleeper.)

#In order to go longer than 6 hours, solids need to be well-established, meaning 3 fully balanced solid meals per day that consist of all 4 food groups (in addition to the milk feeds): grains, protein, fruit/veg and fats. Well-rested 6+ month olds should be down to 1 nightfeed max.

##Most healthy kids start going all night (12+hrs) without eating anywhere between 8-12 months. This depends on the individual child and how advanced the child is with solids.

###Typical max (well-rested) WTs for 6+ month olds -- these are approx. WTs and may vary if your LO is an earlier or later 3-2 & 2-1 nap transitioner:

6/7 months (on a 3 nap schedule): 1.75-2/2-2.25/2.25-2.5/2.25-2.5

7/8 months (just transitioning to 2 naps): 2.25-2.5/2.5-2.75/2.5-3

8 months (on 2 naps): 3/3-3.25/3-3.5

9 months (on 2 naps for a while): 3-3.25/3-3.5/3-3.75

10-14 months: 3-3.25/3-4/2.5-4. For early transitioners, the last WT may shrink as the PM nap shrinks and becomes less restful.

12 months on 2 naps still and not doing 2-1 yet: 3-3.25/3-3.25/3.25-3.5

Just starting 1 nap (still having some 2 nap days): The first WT is stretched from 3-3.25 WT by 15-20min every 3-7 days until you get

to a 4hr WT. If first nap ends before 12pm, do a 30-45 min catnap/quiet time ~3pm or 3.5hrs WT, whichever comes first.

Just recently on 1 nap: 4-4.25/6 (nap starting between 10am and 11am, depending on WU) Every 3-5 days, extend first WT by

15 min until he/she can cope with a 5hr WT

A couple weeks on 1 nap: 5/5 (eg. 6am WU, 11am nap, 7pm BT)

A few weeks more on 1 nap: 5.5/4.5-5(?) (eg. 6am WU, 11:30am nap, 7pm BT) 1 nap is well-established; No need to push the first

WT unless there are signs that more WT is needed (lengthy monkey business before nap and/or shorter naps)

A couple months on 1 nap:: 6/4.5-5(?) (eg. 6am WU, 12pm nap, 7:30pm BT)

A few more months on 1 nap: 6.5/4.5-5(?)

18+ months: 5.5-6/4.5-5(?) ~BTC nap starting at ~12:30-1:00pm

24 months: 6+/5(?) ~BTC nap starting at ~1-1:30pm

2.5-3yrs: nap is dropped for good

*Typically, babies over 4 months need 11-12hrs of nightsleep daily in order to be well-rested enough to sleep well. This is true for about 75% of babies. About 10% of the baby population need slightly more (12-13hrs) or slightly less (10-11hrs) than average, not including time lost due to feedings/nightwakings.

**4-3 nap transition occurs between 3-5 months

3-2 nap transition occurs between 5-8 months

2-1 nap transition occurs between 13-18 months

***May need to be adjusted based on whether your LO is a 10,11,12, or 13 hr night sleeper, how much WT he/she can tolerate at the end of the day, as well as how naps are. These nap cut-off times are recommended if you need an EBT to make up sleep debt. For some 6+ month olds, nap cut-off time may be 3:30pm to preserve CBT.

****The response time is based on nightwakings. The absolute minimum is 10-15mins because of sleep-cries and to allow sufficient time for the child to return into deep sleep. After that 1st response, what happens next depends on the B2B plan, the child's age, temperament, sleep history, parental consistencies etc; all of which are also very important. Generally speaking, the more inconsistent the parents are, the stricter the subsequent methods need to be. This is because the child is older (more stamina) and knows that if he cries in a certain way for a certain amount of time do work. -BGM