It Still Works
I love reading Hathor the Cow Goddess, a link I found over at Daisybones. This image reminds me of what happens during a thunderstorm, at every BOOM! I pat Brett’s tummy as he nestles in closer. Hathor is a mama with three little girls and a lot of how she parents worked for me. I wish I had known more, or was more deliberate.
When I had two little boys by twenty, I had no idea what I was doing.
I still don’t.
But when they were little, I did what all frantic mamas do…WHATEVER WORKS. I learned that I breastfeeding worked, thanks to buttloads of help from the women in my family. Dude, breastfeeding was like the magic of all magics. Oh, newborn is fussy, here, boob. Oh, six month old bumped his head, boob. Got a new brother and you’re a bit confused, BOOBS FOR ALL. I would have cried a lot more without this magic.
I learned that carrying my babies worked. I had a Snugli carrier and by god, in goes the baby and they were calm, quiet, asleep or looking around. And I had HANDS. Hello, I needed hands when I had two of them. I could nurse them in there, they could talk to strangers who wouldn’t ask to hold them, they could see the world fairly easy, and the baby could always see and feel me (versus when we did the stroller and they sometimes got anxious…Lady? LADY WITH THE BOOBS?!!).
I learned that much contact between us worked. I always thought I just had “good” babies, now I’m wondering if somehow I just stumbled on some attachment parenting by accident. Well, maybe more than accident. My mom breastfed and so did my grandma and aunt. My mom also carried us around in a sling or a backpack.
My sister had a harder go of things, but she was also with a man she hated, was depressed, had a very difficult labor, had nurses and “lactation consultants” that completely sabotaged her nursing and her confidence, you name it. However, my sister is a fucking fantastic mother because she pushed through all that shit and she found her own attachment parenting strategies.
And one that has been there for both of us is sharing sleep.
When my boys were babies and toddlers, the family bed isn’t something we thought about. It was just something that let me have precious sleep. And if their dad didn’t have to get up in the night, he didn’t give a hoot that two boys were in our bed. Breastfeeding in a shared bed is the only way to go for me.
And I could never get Daniel off the boob and into a crib to save my ass.
Books told me to never nurse him to sleep so I could lay him down in the crib. That I could warm the crib first if he didn’t like its coldness, that I should put him in the wedge thing we bought so he feels likes he’s not alone, and to swaddle him so he felt secure. A pacifier for when he wanted comfort. When he was a bit older, I saw sound boxes that simulated a mother’s heartbeat.
Um, books? I can do all that by sleeping with him myself. Here, baby, stay on the boob, I’ll just stay asleep and you can fall asleep when you want. Warm, snuggly, heartbeat, all here and I don’t have to stop this dreaming I’m doing.
I learned much, much too late that I didn’t need all the fun baby equipment I bought. Our crib was virtually unused until Brett was a toddler and then Daniel just climbed it to get in with him, breaking the bars. We had toddler beds for the two of them, but you betcha one crash of lightening, one odd sound, a dream gone wrong, and they were in bed with us. It was fine, more than fine.
We haven’t had the dedicated family bed that Hathor and her family had, but it was always open. Their had their rooms and their beds, and still do, but if either one wants to sleep with me, they do.
In fact, they still sleep with my mom.
At her house, the two boys have their own bedroom, my old bedroom. Ashley has her own, her mother’s old bedroom. But at eleven and thirteen, they have no issues sleeping with Nana. No issues with sleeping with me. Ashley is eleven and has no issues sleeping with her mom, her grandma, me: her aunt, or on her own.
I asked them what they thought of it:
It’s comfy
Pillows are poofy
I never get cold at night
The cats sleep with us
I get to actually be with my family, instead of the crazy of the day
And I tell you what, I think our kids are better for it. They are all three independent, will sleep with one of us or on their own as they want, they are fine if we say, “not tonight” or “yes, scooch over!,” they are confident in who they are (even if Daniel is a typical thirteen year old and getting more and more unsure of his actions, he knows who he is and likes it), they are good, good, good, kind considerate kids. The act of sharing, sharing in sleep even, makes you more aware of how to treat others, how to get along in a small space, and how to hold and snuggle someone else. And they enjoy it.
Brett will say, “I’m gonna sleep in the family bed tonight.”
Yes, sir.
Posted by Melissa on January 15th, 2008 under Spawn
January 15th, 2008 at 9:33 pm
Yay! I love this post!
I was really excited when I found Hathor and the rest of the online granola mommy brigade:) So much of that has confirmed my instincts and that’s a big help for new mama who is motherless herself and scared and worried.
The whole giant materialist consumerist capitalist machine seems to be hell bent on selling us crap that we don’t need to fill in the holes that they created for us by brainwashing our natural instincts out of us.
January 16th, 2008 at 12:43 am
This post gives me hope! I LOVE to sleep next to my little man. If the hubby is out of town, little Oedipus will gladly take his dad’s side of the bed. And Even when the hubs is home, I still manage to get a night in here and there to sleep next to the boy.
(I bed hop from man to man. heehee.)
But the point, um yeah there was a point… I hope when Seth is 12-13 he’ll still want to snuggle up and sleep next to me like your boys. Makes my heart ache to think otherwise.
January 16th, 2008 at 7:37 pm
I would like sleeping in the same bed with my son a lot more if he didn’t KICK me so much when I let him in bed with me. Heh. Kid would kick and push until his father and I were BOTH about to fall out of the bed when we would let him sleep in our bed.
He also hated being in a crib, though. Hated it, hated it. Hated sleeping in a crib, hated being swaddled. Hated sleeping in my bed because there were other people in it. Just pretty much hated sleep period, really.
I think he really just wanted a whole king-sized bed (with NO BLANKETS MOMMY!) to himself, but also wanted me to magically appear at his side whenever he felt lonely or bored.
January 19th, 2008 at 2:18 pm
what a great post. And YAY! for you (and your kids) that you trusted your instincts.
January 24th, 2008 at 5:52 pm
Ah, the family bed, the Everybody Boat. AKA, “don’t put your feet down or the sharks will get us!”
When the cats sleep on the bed, it’s sorta hard to argue with any logical consistency for keeping the Unreliable Narrator out. (Not that we would.) And we often take turns sleeping in the UN’s bed with him (a twin sized mattress on the floor, a la college student futon).
A toast: to snuggling.
January 28th, 2008 at 12:46 pm
The kid slept with us until she was eight — she just moved to her own bed, and sometimes still crawls in with us. People ( cough my mother cough) tried to guilt me into kicking her out earlier, but you know, humans shared beds for thousands of years, why stop with this generation?
January 28th, 2008 at 3:18 pm
I love all the encouraging comments, thank you!
Brett has been much heavier on it than Daniel lately, but I think it’s because Brett’s the kicker and Daniel gets sick of it and goes back to his own bed or to my side.
And yep, add two cats to the mix!
October 28th, 2008 at 10:38 am
net texas holdeme…
Mathewson,bunny reveling countenance livestock:…