kara

“Naps are nature’s way of reminding you that life is nice—like a beautiful, softly swinging hammock strung between birth and infinity.” —Peggy Noonan

When Sophie was born, I became obsessed with sleep. I lived my life in a fog, constantly Googling “newborn sleep,” reading every sleep book out there, hoping for a cure to one of the worst side effects of having a baby—sleep deprivation. There was a cure—time. And eventually Sophie worked out her days and nights. She slept for three hours at a time, then four, then five. And for several blissful months we’d do her bedtime routine and put her in her crib awake, and she’d put herself to sleep and stay asleep for 12—yes 12—long, wonderful hours.

And then she turned nine-months old. Our pediatrician warned us about night terrors. She’s teething and crawling and standing—all activities that can disrupt sleep. And last night, in our Academy of Pediatrics’ Caring For Your Baby and Young Child Birth to Age 5 book, I read this: “As her separation anxieties intensify in the next few months, she may start to resist going to bed, and she may wake up more often looking for you.” Our sweet child starts arching her back and kicking her feet before she even hits the crib mattress.

I’m not big on letting Sophie cry, for any reason. But I do think there are a lot of misconceptions about the Ferber method. He does not promote letting your baby cry it out until she falls asleep—rather you let your baby cry for five minutes, then intervene, then 10 minutes, then intervene, etc. However, the method is still difficult for me.

But we’ve stood by her side, rubbing her back and feet, stroking her head and cheeks—for more than an hour (not kidding). I’ve done all the things books and well-meaning people say to do and not to do—I’ve nursed her to sleep, rocked her to sleep, taken her into bed with me. I remember one night, when she was screaming particularly loud and particularly hard, I simply took her out of the crib and back downstairs—instant smile, instant giggle. In fact, anytime we enter her room her screams turn to smiles. The girl’s smarter than I think and sometimes I wonder if we’re not training her—rather she’s training us.

We’ve only tried the Ferber method for two nights now. And the first night really shouldn’t count. We let her go five minutes, then 10, and then I screwed it up. The “intervention” is supposed to only last a minute and involves a hand on the back, a stroke of the cheek, a reminder that you love her. Andy came upstairs, hissing into the crack of the door, “What are you doing?” after five minutes of me holding and rocking her. Last night, though, we let her cry for five minutes. I intervened, left the room and she went to sleep. Hopefully five minutes is all it will take from here on out. I don’t think I could go much longer than 10.

I think the trick is consistency, love and patience. And coming to terms with the fact that just when you think you’ve got something down, she, we—life—changes.

“Having a child is surely the most beautifully irrational act that two people in love can commit.” —Bill Cosby

“Labradors [are] lousy watchdogs. They usually bark when there is a stranger about, but it is an expression of unmitigated joy at the chance to meet somebody new, not a warning.” —Norman Strung

An exciting thing happened while we were in Boston. Sophie was standing on a couch cushion with her hands on the back of the couch for support. Andy was on one side of her and Jill was on the other. Jill had a bowl of ice cream, which Sophie apparently wanted (Gebhart genes, for sure), because she stepped, stepped, stepped her way over. We then put her on the floor so she could use the couch seat cushions for support. She stepped, stepped, stepped again, supporting herself with the couch and then, later, the coffee table. Note her deep concentration as she tries to get Knuffle Bunny in the last picture. Baby’s cruising!

“I had always thought that once you grew up you could do anything you wanted—stay up all night or eat ice cream straight out of the container.” —Bill Bryson

Sink baths at Grandma and Grandpa’s house used to be difficult because I was so tiny and slippery.

Now I can sit up on my own—but I also splash!

“Childhood is that wonderful time of life when all you need to do to lose weight is take a bath.” —Richard Zera

“Being grandparents sufficiently removes us from the responsibilities so that we can be friends.” —Allan Frome

We spent much of New Year’s Eve day at the airport. Our flight to Boston was canceled due to weather, but thankfully we were able to book another flight to Hartford four hours later. We had already checked Sophie’s car seat so we waited it out at the airport.

Normally a delay at the airport involves reading books, flipping through magazines, watching people and taking naps—these things aren’t possible with a nine-month-old. So we first stopped at Starbucks to fuel up on caffeine.

While there, Sophie ate her first puff!

We rode the train.

I nursed Sophie.

Sophie played with Sophie …

… and tried to perfect her crawling skills.

“It’s no coincidence that in no known language does the phrase ‘As pretty as an airport’ appear.” —Douglas Adams

I’m so grateful to be able to work from home—and therefore stay home with Sophie. This allows me much freedom (well, as much freedom as a nine-month-old allows) and so the Monday following Christmas Sophie and I were able to visit more with family. Here’s Grandma and two of her daughters.

Kelsey holding Sophie.

We walked across the street to feed apples to the neighbor’s horses.

That evening we drove to Richmond, Ind. for good pizza, in a restaurant filled with beads and lights (which Sophie loved).

“You better cut the pizza in four pieces because I’m not hungry enough to eat six.” —Yogi Berra

The Sunday after Christmas we got together with my mom’s side of the family to celebrate.

The Capistas drove in from West Chester, Pa.

Ben, John and David talking about things guys talk about.

Kelsey sitting pretty.

Uncle Corey and Aunt Janeil, always laughing.

Uncle Tom helping Sophie play with her now toy from Grandma.

Sophie, again, got many nice things, including clothes, a hooded bath towel, Goodnight Moon and toys.

I don’t remember taking these … 🙂

“Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.” —Laura Ingalls Wilder