Boy Oh Boyers

I guess technically Rowan has had a few playdates already: with Karis, with Kayla...but this is the first one where we got dressed and went out of the house for the express purpose of hanging out with other moms and babies Rowan's age. It's so funny, we met Danielle and Kelly at a homeowner's assocation meeting when the three of us were all quite pregnant. We delivered within a month of each other, and finally we've gotten together! Rowan and I walked over to Danielle's house this morning. Megan joined us also, who Danielle met in her birth education class. After a lot of sleeping, feeding, fussing, and diaper changes, we had a few golden moments of all four babies playing happily on the floor!

From left to right, they are: Tate (11 weeks), Sage (13 weeks), Kellyann (9 weeks), and Rowan (13 weeks). It was hilarious how they all sort of laid there and "treaded air" in exactly the same way!

It was three months ago today that Rowan arrived, slightly surprising us by sending us to the hospital on Independence Day. Simultaneously it feels as if he has just arrived and as if we have never been without him.

Today was a fussy day, filled with awakeness when there should have been sleeping and vice versa. Grandmommy says possibly ear trouble or allergies; Leah says possibly a growth spurt. I guess we'll see. He's already wearing some 9-month clothes, so if he really does have a growth spurt I don't know what we'll do with him! :-) Anyway, things have evened back out this evening, and tonight is slated to be Rowan's first feeding-free night. We've got no illusions that it'll be interruption-free for us (starting at 1:45am for the last few nights, Rowan feels the need to rouse us to comfort him almost hourly even after he's been fed). Anyway, once the feeding is eliminated we'll set to work on applying the other sound principles of baby sleep to help him, and us, make it through the night. But we'll go one night at a time!

I hope we wakes up soon for his goodnight feeding. We need to get some good rest -- for tomorrow is a glorious FootballDay!!

It's done! Tonight will be Rowan's third night with no feeding during the night. He eats around 9:30pm and then again around 6:30am. It's wonderful. Now, let's be clear: he still woke up. The first night was fitful. Last night was way better, with only a waking around midnight and another around 5am. Theoretically, once a baby gets used to the idea that a nighttime waking is not accompanied by a meal, there's far less to get excited about; the baby drifts happily back to sleep on his own. Gotta' love a theory like that! ;-)

Seriously. You hear that babies drool when they start teething. Rowan is almost certainly months away from teething (though it isn't impossible that he's starting now), but about a week ago he started drooling. I don't mean the occasional drip when he gets excited; I mean he can soak two burp cloths in an hour if I am determined to keep the drool from getting all over him. He's very content to share his slobber in various ways -- for instance, by coating his entire hand and forearm with shiny wetness. He's also very amused to blow spit bubbles. Although they don't grow large like chewing gum bubbles, spit bubbles are impressive because of the sheer number of them that can gather in one huge clump right on his lips, as if he were chewing on a piece of transparent cauliflower! At this very moment Rowan is sitting on my lap. I have two monitors at my computer desk, and on one of them is a full-screen photograph of Rowan smiling, and he's intently studying it while I type. The photographed version is clean as a whistle, but the Rowan I'm holding, squirmy and warm, is sporting a shiny chin, a soaking wet fist, and a damp chest. Ah, glorious babyhood!

Alright, I ate one. A fried Snickers bar at the State Fair. Yes, I did. And Tom ate fried Oreos (wait, maybe that was Mary). Anyway, the point is I think they must do fireworks at the State Fair, because I sho'nuff have been hearing them. Just when I thought I could settle down and go to bed (thus disturbing Tom who has been there for quite a while now), I'd approach the bedroom door stealthily when I'd hear "POP! POP! POP POP POP!!" outside. Sheesh, no reason to try to go to sleep with all that commotion. So I gave up for a few minutes, and next thing you know here I am posting some pictures of the day and darnit if it's not almost 11pm! Boy, I'm going to regret this tomorrow. Oh well, the blog must go on.

As you'll see in some upcoming pictures of the day, Rowan's life is filled with variety lately. He goes to Leah's on Mondays, and last week Mary came over on Wednesday to let me focus on work for a while. Tim babysat on Friday evening while Tom and I went out, and Karis comes over on Friday mornings. Oh, and I forget about the weekly (sometimes several) visits to my office where Rowan (usually quietly) sits in on meetings or even classes. Then there was last weeks' trip to Daddy's office so I could get a flu shot. Wow, did Tom's coworkers go nuts over our little cuddlebug! I'm afraid we disturbed every cube in the whole building with all the squealing and hollering, and that doesn't even count the noise Rowan made! :-)

The milk-free nights are continuing. I don't know how long it's been but it's been long enough to know we are not going to have to revert to midnight feedings again (at least not for this baby. Ha ha). Won't be long now 'till we "Ferberize" -- that is, gradually teach Rowan to go to sleep (and put himself back to sleep at 3am) without our intervention. I guess we'll do that in a week or so once Rowan and I get back from our conference in Orlando. Grandmommy and Disney World, here we come!

It's a little poem that Kelly, our neighbor, sent to me:

Cleaning and cooking can wait 'til tomorrow
For babies grow up, as we've learned to our sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep,
I'm rocking my baby, and babies don't keep.

I've just put Rowan down to bed. As I rocked him tonight, I felt connected to the world in a way that's difficult to express. This sense of connectedness was startling, perhaps for no good reason except that it was on two levels at the same time: the past and the present. For me, it's been nearly impossible to dwell in these two levels in the same instant, at least consciously. But there in the dark room in a soft chair I was rocking my beautiful baby. His face was inches from my own, and at first his eyes were open and looking at me in the dim light. Then he drifted to sleep, faint smiles of contentment appearing and disappearing quickly enough that they could have been easily missed. His breath changed and his arms relaxed; I knew he was asleep. I say truly that if I had treasured this moment any more than I did, if I had found a way to drink it in any deeper, I'm not sure I would have survived it.

So in rocking and sharing the very air I was breathing with my beautiful baby, I felt more connected to him than even when he was inside me. At the same instant, I felt connected to the mothers before me through the ages who have done this same thing: rocked their precious babies to sleep and marvelled at how things change. Did these mothers of past days feel the same as I? I ponder how the world sprints past while to me each moment feels frozen and imprinted on my memory like a shining gold medallion, intricate and treasured.

There is no way to truly capture this time. Photos and video are a feeble reflection of the living, breathing beauty of the now. No technology can even come close to recreating an experience so simple as rocking a baby. So I know that years from now, as my memories of tonight are cluttered by all the mundane and exceptional things that Rowan's life has in store for us, I may not be able to recall some details that now blaze so clearly and strongly in my memory. While occasionally the thought of forgetting gives me a twinge of pain, the agony is immediately overcome by knowing I am immersing myself, with all my heart, in now. I really don't know how the awe hasn't faded; I can't take credit for my constant state of amazement and gratitude. So, I just thank God for now. And I drink it in deep.

Orlando! The flight here was smooth, the weather has been clear and hot, the hotel is nice, and I'm having a great time at the conference. We're on Disney's doorstep, so Rowan and Grandmommy walked to "Downtown Disney". As you can see, they came back with goodies! We head home tomorrow.

It's a common term among parents our age: Dr. Ferber wrote the authoritative book on baby sleep, and his method is known as Ferberizing. The idea is once babies are a few months old, we start doing them a disservice by putting them completely to sleep before laying them down in their cribs. When they wake up, they don't know how they got there; they remember falling asleep in warm arms, and now all they know is they're alone in a crib. This causes what could be a momentary nighttime waking to turn into a crying nighttime waking. Rowan has been having quite a lot of crying nighttime wakings. There was one night in Orlando when he really didn't cry until 6am; but other than that, we get woken up around 3:30am every day and then frequently after that unless we lay down and sleep with Rowan on the couch in his room. A few weeks ago we decided we'd Ferberize as soon as we got home from Orlando, and here we are. So tonight after I fed and changed Rowan around 10pm, I swaddled him (one arm out so he can chew his fingers if he wants), then put him into his crib. He was clearly very sleepy but still awake. He cried. Following Ferber's "progressive waiting" method (the "kinder and gentler" one), I waited one minute outside his room then went in and patted Rowan and told him I loved him. He got quiet, but as soon as I left he cried again. So, again following the Ferber method, I waited three minutes. More patting and comforting (just for a moment, not picking him up), and he got quiet, but then more crying when I left the room. I was gearing up for a five minute wait this time, but now all is quiet from the nursery after just four minutes. Whew!

Theoretically now that he has had to consciously decide to stop crying and go to sleep in his crib, it's a tiny bit of progress toward crying-free nights: when he does wake up slightly in the middle of the night (as all humans do per our natural sleep cycles), he will remember being in the crib and going to sleep comfortably there, and he'll drift off back to sleep without a worry. This of course won't happen right away, so needless to say I'm braced for a little bit of fussing at 3am. Not to worry, though: I have my trusty diving watch that lights up and has a stopwatch, so even as sleepy as I'll be, I can track the 1 minute, 3 minute, 5 minute progression.

Now, I must go to sleep. But there's no way I could do so without really noting what this night means. It's the night I don't rock my baby to sleep. Not that he has needed rocking most nights to go to sleep, but it's the fact that from now on (at least at night) I must not rock him unless extraordinary circumstances present themselves. This is the best thing for him and for us: surely repeated wakings in the wee morning hours were taking their toll on all involved. I guess I feel the same way about this as I did when I bought that last package of size newborn diapers. And I'm coping, in part, because of what those diapers taught me. My precious Rowan, now bright eyed, bouncy, loving to sit up rather than lie down...this beautiful baby is even more wonderful now, somehow, than he was when he did wear those size newborn diapers. So with the passage of time and the laying down of some things, there is a bountiful harvest of other blessings to pick up. I'll take 'em.

That's right friends: Mommy is sleeeeeeepy. Rowan did just fine during last night's first Ferberizing session. He was awake a bit around 3:30am, but did go back to sleep on his own with just intervals of checking in to reassure him, without being picked up out of his crib. I, on the other hand, so was anxious about the whole deal (not to mention a million things that are going wrong at work right now), that I could barely sleep at all. I am seriously so tired today, I don't think I've felt this way since...oh...probably some slumber party in junior high. No, I remember: grad night! You know, the night that Disney World opens from 10pm until 4am for graduating high school seniors to run amuck and ride rides? *That* might be the most tired I've ever been. More tired than in the hospital after Rowan was born? Yes.

Daddy gets to do the Ferberizing tonight.

It's official. Our baby has had his first "real" night! Not that he's ever been an awful sleeper, but on the third night of Ferberizing we have seen amazing success. Rowan went to bed at 8:30pm (no crying at all, even though he was laid in the crib awake) and woke up at 5:00am. The only middle of the night fussing was less than five minutes total, requiring only a brief stop in by me to fiddle with the swaddle. And, lest you not grasp the full extent of what Rowan has accomplished in just three nights, these "Ferber" nights have been pacifier-free, too!

Yesterday it dawned on me there was a very appropriate rearrangement that needed to be made in the daytime schedule to make nighttime life easier. See, normally Rowan took a bath around 7:00 and then took a "nap" from 7:30 until 9:30 or 10. At that time he usually woke up to eat or I messed with him until he woke up to eat (so I could go to bed). But I realized he was essentially "going to bed" at 7:30 not just "napping", because he only barely woke up again to eat and then went right back down for the night. With this realization, it became obvious that bedtime should be scooted a little later to avoid what was essentially a new middle-of-the-night feeding (which I certainly hadn't thought of that way before, but to Rowan it surely must have seemed like it). Anyway, last night we did everything we could to keep him awake with a goal of the final feeding being at 8:30. We walked the dog, took an extra-long bath, even breaking out some bath toys. I think I had to tickle his back or blow on his neck about 30 times to keep him awake and get those 6 ounces down him, but boy was it worth it!

I would say let's embrace this newfound rest with caution, but the truth is I know Tom and I have read enough and are disciplined enough to help Rowan stay in a great nighttime routine, possibly even stretching the morning until, oh, a lazy 5:30? But we'll work on that later. :-)

I guess our baby-free friends who read this might think "Your baby woke up at 5am and you're writing about it as a triumph?" To them I reply, abso-freakin'-lutely! Even at that early hour when we could so happily stay in bed, those kissable cheeks are bait enough to lure even these reluctant fish right out from our resting spots.

Well, poor Rowan has had his first cold. :-( Yesterday in the morning he seemed stuffy and was sneezing a lot. Then by late morning he was fussy and felt warm, so I took his temperature. It was 100.2. The doctor's office said no need to come in, it's probably just a cold. Which it is, because his fever is gone today and besides some lingering stuffiness, he seems to be doing well. My mom pointed out that Rowan's sickness seems to have been much harder on me than it was on him, and that's totally true! It was awful seeing my baby cough and sneeze and struggle to breathe. It's enough to make me want to flog everybody with disinfectant wipes before they get within a mile of Rowan. But of course that can't happen, and I know his life is richer because of all the places he goes and the people he sees.

Whew, it's been a while since I wrote an entry! Things have been crazy around the Boyer house. Namely, Daddy has been gone to a training class in Madison (the one in Wisconsin, not the one in Florida where my family's favorite swimming hole is). Meemaw flew up to help out with Rowan, and I decided to take advantage of having the help at home. Of course that means I've been practically living in the office! Well, it's not all that bad. And you know I love it. Well, enough about us. Let's give the Rowan update.

Rowan is growing as usual. His 6-month sleepers are just perfectly fitting now, no extra material anywhere. It seems like he daily gets more control over his hands, and is now able to shove the entire bib from his chest into his mouth in one swoop! His bouncer seat has a toy bar that plays music and blinks if Rowan grabs the dangling parrot or monkey, and this week for the first time that toy bar has gotten a run for its money. Rowan has figured out how to grab and keep hold of both the parrot and the monkey (usually not at the same time), and as soon as the music and lights stop he goes for another of the toys to make the show start again. Pretty cool! Well, cool for him...and a slightly ominous foreshadowing of repetitive musical toys for Mommy.

There's a totally uncool behavior that Rowan has undertaken during two of his last three baths. Ready for this? Imagine it: you're in a warm, deep tub bath with your beautiful baby who is laughing and splashing. The world is aglow in beautiful happiness. Then, a bubbly rumble. So quick, so terrifying, so unmistakable: the baby has just pooped in the tub!! Instinct takes over. Your mind is racing. Self preservation at all costs. You and the baby leap from the tub like a hot spark from a raging inferno! Nevermind the carpet, you run! Run straight into the shower and soap down anything that will stand still! Later you reflect on the incident. "Why me?", you might ask. "Why now?" "Why?" And then, when no deep meaningful answer comes to you, you must simply adopt the response of one wise person who will be remembered for the ages. In the words of Ernest P. Worrell (yes, I know I date myself with this reference), "Eeeeeeeeeeeeew."