In celebration of that – here’s Steve Zissou, with a kid on his shoulders. One for the toque-wearers. Half way through, it turns into “one for the uniforms”;)

Charlie & Lola

Höjdarna

In The Night Garden

Pingu

Miniscule

Shaun The Sheep

Some “new” kid’s tv I found myself captivated by, watching with Tilja. Fun doing it a second time around;)

7:00
Up and starting the day – of course; she’s cute as hell. So confusing.

18:45 -18:58
Marie stays home tonight, for the first time since we started this new routine.
Tilja gets a little sad saying goodnight to Marie, reaches for the door as we close it behind us, reaches too from the crib while standing a little while; then is coaxed into sitting, then flops herself down.

A little whinier than last night, but still- cool as a cucumber.

18:45-18:58
Some squeaks and whimpers, but she falls back to sleep without any help.

5:55-6:00
She is squirmy and whimpering enough to warrant me getting out of bed to go over and stroke her back a little. She settles rather quickly, and sleeps.

I get up anyways.

7:00
She’s up and happy:)

Marie and her Mum show up, I shut myself in the bedroom office, and although I am a little tired – it’s not even close to how I felt yesterday.

I should mention that the night before I started this sleep program, Marie was at her parent’s recouperating, too. Tilja didn’t quite know what to make of it, and she and I were up most of the night trying to get her to sleep. Once she was asleep – I wasn’t. After all that effort I didn’t feel so tired. I figure I got 2 or 3 hours total sleep that night.

Luckily, with the ladies around to take care of Tilja during the day, I managed to do some work before I crashed and burned at 3. Slept til 6, at which point the ladies took off, and I eventually got Tilja ready for bed.

That was yesterday. Today was much better, and I certainly was proud of the little girl for how she handled the night.

We were off to a rocky start tonight. As I came out of the office to let the girls in from their walk, I didn’t quite hear what the plan was, and assumed I was to keep Tilja awake while the ladies went grocery shopping, and then came back to feed Tilja. What I misunderstood was the feeding bit. I was to feed the girl while they shopped. Instead I just played with her to keep her awake.
Dinner was a disaster – a few bites and that was it.
Then she had boob, and nearly fell asleep. We plopped her in the bath to keep her going, and then amused her until the ladies went to “Moma’s” (Marie’s mum) for the night. I bit of crying as she waved goodbye, but otherwise calm and collected:)

NIGHT 2:

18:48-18:55
After watching a bit of Pingu, and having her bowl of porridge, I took Tilja to her crib, gave her some välling from a bottle (not much), lay her down in bed, and she was quiet. A few whimpers and squirming around, but no standing. I was able to pat her pillow to coax her into lying down, and she did. She grabbed her teddy, squashed it a bit, rolled around and passed out after a few minutes. No crying at all.

6:00-6:25
Um… I couldn’t believe my eyes, but there it was, right on the clock – 6:00. I heard Tilja – deep in the night – whimper a bit, once, but I let her whimper a few more times before thinking about going over to her… and then didn’t have to. She slept on her own.
At 6:00 I didn’t really know what to do. Surprised by the full night’s sleep – I felt like taking her up and congratulating her- but instead tried once more to get her to sleep. It was afterall, still normal-person early. She did lay down, close her eyes and try to sleep, but didn’t quite work. She tried though.
We got up and started our day.

=)

Marie and I got the “Sleep Sense Program”, by Dana Obleman, from my sister a while ago. Too long ago, really. Nearly a year later, and I (I’ll just speak for myself here) am bleary eyed, distracted, unorganized, terribly grumpy, run down, have the attention span of a goldfish, and can’t remember the last time I wasn’t interrupted in my sleep.

We’re not the only ones. Tilja too, sweetheart she is, just started showing tell-tale signs of being equally run down; frantic crawling in circles (although with a smile), rolling on her back to lay down during play, and arching her back being just a few. Then there’s the whining. Oiy…thank goodness I drink coffee, or I’d be doing the same things.

Why we didn’t take little sister’s advice to heart when we could have – more easily – baffles me now. We did think the baby girl was terribly cute, quiet and serene in her early days. I guess we figured since we didn’t have a problem with her sleep the first few months – we never would. Besides why would we want to make a baby who barely cried- cry every night to fall asleep; when she feel asleep so easily already?

I think I am partly to blame.
I can be a little prejudiced about N.American solutions to problems being pilferred on unsuspecting helpless parents in the form of self help books. I can’t count the number of times I have leafed through books that gushingly stroke parents telling them how special their little angel is and how they should create this bubbly puffy safe glimmery word for their kids – safe from everything, “do a few things we say and everything will stay that way”.
I like books that call shit, “shit”. Something like, “Your sweet little baby, the same one who smiles and cuddles you during the day, will indeed turn into a conniving little devil, who will drain you of all your energy, stamina and will to live as soon as the sun goes down. You should have taken steps to prevent this a loooong time ago, you stupid ass – but I can help. It’ll sound simple and nasty – but I have hundreds of cases of parents who tried the same thing, and it worked. And yes, your sweet angel baby does indeed shit “shit”. We all do.”

I’m sold! Not that Obleman writes this way – but it is refreshingly void of over-flowery language.

But then there is the assumption that every family has a seperate kid’s room. And a house apparently, and a car.

We don’t have a kid’s room in our 40 square meter apartment. We don’t have a car either. But on the other hand, we don’t have stressful jobs – and I work from home most of the time (kinda like John Lennon – the doodler, not the musician;)). Like latter-day hippies, we are a cuddly family and choose the soft road of child rearing when we can. So we are trying the “soft” – stay in the room – approach.

Here goes:

NIGHT ONE:
Marie is spending the night at her parents (to recover after having minor surgery on a tendon in her wrist) and I am on watch to help Tilja learn how to fall asleep on her own.

Her nighttime routine was followed to a “T”: porridge, wash up, teeth brushing, pyjamas on, book reading, and then to bed. Same as every other night. Then we go into the bedroom (where we all sleep – Tilja in her crib most of the night, us in our bed, not even a half meter away). This is where the new routine starts.

Up til now, Marie would breast feed Tilja on the livingroom sofa, she’d get drowsy, but not sleep. I’d take her into the room, and walk around, hum a little tune and stroke her head or back, she’d eventually doze off, or arch a little and I’d take that as a signal to put her down in the crib. Then she’s doze off. That’s an ideal nighttime. Other times she might be pointing at the door (which might as well be a gigantic breast) and I’d have to convince her to just give up on tha, and concentrate on sleeping (in my arms). She’d sleep, wake up once in a while. Sometimes a lot, sometimes a little, but eventually we’d all go to bed, and Tilja would eventually make it into our bed, latch on to the boob a few times (1-2-3 o’clock – sometimes skipping one of those times), I’d take her back to the crib afterwards- at least until 4 or so, and then she’d come back and not let go before morning – around 7. She’d be tired. We’d be tired. But she’d be cute.

19:00
Tonight, I put her straight in her crib, pulled up my workchair beside the head of her crib, and she cried. Standing, arms outstretched, and sometimes pointing at the door, she cried at various levels, but not hysterically. I kept repeating a few choice phrases, “natti natt, baby… it’s sleepytime” and “It’s ok, you can do it” – when she go most upset.
She’s a stander, so I didn’t even try to lay her down – that would just upset her more. Instead I patted her pillow and suggested she put her head down. She couldn’t hear me all the time, so sometimes I put my palms together, put them to the side of my head, and tilted towards them, you know… “Frere Jacques, dormez-vous”?, to give her an idea of what to do.

Not one to give up, she actually dozed off standing there, leaning on the crib side with one arm, like a cool delinquent . I helped her lie down, she resisted a tiny bit, whimpered, and went out like a light.

19:15
I was out in the kitchen doing dishes.

22:15
Same thing, standing crying. This time she dozed off a few times standing up in the corner of the crib – woke herself as her head nodded forward (like people do falling asleep on public transit). So cute. Eventually her knees buckled, and I helped her lay down.

22:30
She’s asleep.

24:00
I go to sleep, after watching an episode of “House”.

1:45 – 2:00
She’s awake, cries, sleeps.

3:45 – 3:55
She’s awake, cries, sleeps.

5:45
She’s awake, it’s very light in the room, and I figure since it’s nearly 6:00; why not get up and give her a break? We get up, go into the livingroom, give her new diaper, she drinks half a bottle of vælling (drinkable porridge?), is happy and cuddly, and starts playing. Around 7:00 she has a bowl of porridge.
We play some more, roll a football around between us, cuddle on the sofa and watch a bit of Teletubbies on the DVD, read a book.

7:30
She starts rubbing her eyes, and is a little whiny. I put on some music and dance around with her a little (slow jazz).

7:40 – 7:55
I figure she might as well try this at nap time too – so I pull the curtains, put her in her crib. She cries less, sits herself down, and dozes off a few times. I help her lay down. She nearly dozes off, but wakes to fiddle with a blankie, the crib bars, her teddy, sits up. Dozes off, I help her down again.
She sleeps.

That was that night. So far so good, I think.

9:25
Awake and happy

The photo at the start is from a trip to Louisiana this summer. Louise Bourgeois’ “The Eyes”.

We picked up this cheap “gåvagn” (walk-wagon) from IKEA a while ago, put a heavy book -WorldChanging- in it recently, and let Tilja have a go at it.

She’s been careening back and forth across the livingroom, saying, “Brrmm Brrmmm”, ever since.

I’ve been telling Marie – for quite a while now – that I thought (even though her overall cuteness overshadows this little quirky observation) that Tilja bears a striking resemblance to Bill Murray in “Caddyshack”.

It’s their crooked little mouths… and I’m starting to think her humour might be just as twisted;)

Tilja leans to the left though.
I’m trying to get her to say, “Gungalagunga”, just to see how deep the likeness runs.

And I’m thinking I’ll haveto get her a camouflage crusher hat, just for the hell of it. It’ll make me giggle, at any rate.

I’ve been telling Marie – for quite a while now – that I thought (even though her overall cuteness overshadows this little quirky observation) that Tilja bears a striking resemblance to Bill Murray in “Caddyshack”.

It’s their crooked little mouths… and I’m starting to think her humour might be just as twisted;)

Tilja leans to the left though.
I’m trying to get her to say, “Gungalagunga”, just to see how deep the likeness runs.

And I’m thinking I’ll haveto get her a camouflage crusher hat, just for the hell of it. It’ll make me giggle, at any rate.