Camping with Baby: A Photo Essay

We took BabyC camping for the first time a few days ago.  We hadn't been camping since I was 20 weeks pregnant, at which point I was already too uncomfortable to be sleeping on the hard ground.  Before my pregnancy though, Husband and I did a lot of outdoor exploration together - hiking, camping, climbing, backpacking.  Being outdoors together grew our relationship in the early days and strengthened it as the years went by.  There is nothing like being out together on a multi-pitch climb up a rock face, just the two of you, to erase any doubt that you trust the other person wholly and completely.  And nothing quite like tackling all the tasks of setting up a camp and getting a one-pot dinner cooked after a long day of backpacking to make you glad you are on the same team.  These experiences have shaped who we are as friends and as husband and wife.

But now we have a baby in the mix.  There are no more multi-pitch climbing expeditions or long backpacking trips in our near future.  That's the way it is, we thought.  We'll make do with car-camping.  I was excited about the trip.

It was not the same.  We were too tired to stay up late around the fire and share a bottle of wine.  I was so nervous about BabyC waking up the neighboring campers that I jumped to soothe her every time she made a peep, which she took as a signal that I wanted to play in the middle of the night.  Husband was grumpy because it wasn't the same.  I was grumpy because Husband was grumpy and bummed because camping used to be our thing.

Looking back, though, I think BabyC had a great time, and that makes me happy.

Out here, I can explore the world and see what choking hazards it has to offer.

We can play in the tent - all night long if you want!

We'll go walking on the chilly beach, but I have my dad to snuggle me.

Oh yeah, and the dog had a great time, too!  

Happy dog, typical Oregon coast evening.

In action.

Nice catch!

This is one of the reasons we take pictures.  We don't usually try to capture grumpiness in photos, and that sometimes lets us drop it from the memory.  The exploring kid and the happy dog are what stay.

Discipline for Babies?

I’ve been thinking about discipline lately.  I know the time is coming when we’ll have to set some boundaries for BabyC.  Given how quickly these last 9 months have flown by, I know that time is coming soon – or is it here already?  I want to be prepared, but just the word “discipline,” makes panic rise up in my heart. 

An infant’s needs are straight-forward enough:  feed, diaper, help to sleep (OK, that one is tough), rinse, repeat, over and over.  Luckily, it doesn’t take much thought to meet a young infant’s needs, which is good, because we were too sleep-deprived to think much during that time.  But as BabyC gets older, she is more aware of how we react to events.  She notices the expressions on our faces and the emotions in our voices.  She is observing, processing, and remembering the new things that she is learning every day.  Her little personality is starting to shine, and it is a reflection of both the way her brain is wired and of her time spent with us, her parents.  She is reaching an age at which she will need some guidance about how to behave in the world and help to understand what is appropriate and what is not, not to mention what is safe and what is not.  It is up to us to provide her with that guidance, and that scares the hell out of me.

What got me thinking about discipline was a visit a couple of weeks ago from our good friends and their 15-month-old super-cute toddler, BoyO.  They stayed with us for a week, and our house was pretty much consumed with babies during their stay.  We lived in the same town until a few months ago, and we relied heavily on these friends to give us baby-raising advice, since they had gone through everything 6 months before us.  They came to the hospital the night I was in labor, toting along their 6-month-old and a pizza to fortify my husband and mom.  At the time, I remember thinking that their little boy was HUGE – practically a teenager already compared to the tiny peanut we’d have by the next morning.  But a couple of weeks ago, as we watched BoyO and BabyC play together, they suddenly seemed more like peers, and I knew BabyC would practically be a teenager soon, too.

BabyC:  Watcha got there, BoyO?

BoyO:  Hands off, BabyC!

BoyO is no longer a baby.  He is a toddler, and an assertive one at that.  During their visit, he tested his parents again and again.  I admired how they responded, consistently, again and again.  Over the course of the week, we watched how he learned which things in our house were off limits (the fireplace, the dog, the toilet, and the stairs).  BoyO dealt with all of this pretty well, but when he was tired of being told “no,” he wore his frustrations on his sleeve.  Actually, he did seem like a teenager in a way, sometimes unable to handle his emotions and sometimes wanting more independence than he could really handle.  At times, this struggle was more than he could bear.  He did at one point wind up to hit BabyC when she pulled a toy out of his hand.  And sometimes he was just about more than his parents could bear, particularly on a gorgeous evening when we were all supposed to be enjoying a picnic and wine, but BoyO was seeking out every off-limits corner of the winery grounds.  But then there was a moment of pure sweetness when BabyC bonked her head on something and started crying, and BoyO came over to gently pat her on the back, his face as full as empathy as a toddler's can be.

My BabyC seemed oblivious to all of this, but what I saw in BoyO and his parents was our rapidly approaching future.  The time would come when we would have to set and enforce limits for BabyC.  Would we be able to handle it as well as BoyO’s parents?

BoyO’s mama told me that he turned into a hellion (her word) at 10 months, suddenly hitting and biting to show his frustration.  She said it took her by surprise, because it happened so quickly and she hadn’t imagined that she would need to discipline her baby.  And so it took about a month for her and her husband to begin to implement a game plan for handling BoyO, but once they did, it worked wonders.  Now they enforce boundaries with firm and quiet voices and use short time-outs and redirection.  A few months ago, when BoyO started throwing food from his high chair, his parents decided that was a signal that mealtime was over.  They’re pretty sure that he lost a little weight during the week that he was learning that lesson, but we never saw BoyO throw food while they were visiting. 

Initially, I watched and admired BoyO and his parents struggle to define boundaries and felt lucky that my baby hadn’t yet reached this challenging stage.  But then I started to think about what boundaries she has already tested and how many times I had responded by thinking, “She’s just a baby, she’s too young to understand right from wrong.”  BabyC started attacking the cat at around 7 months, and we laughed at how tolerant the cat was to having her ears boxed and her tail pulled.  Then, a couple weeks ago, I watched BabyC wind up for a similar attack on another baby at story time at the library.  Whoa, who taught her that behaving like that was OK?

BabyC looks maniacal here.  The cat was just happy for any attention after being upstaged by first a dog and then a baby over the last few years.  Husband and I laughed, inappropriately.

Then I remembered the one time that I have effectively defined a boundary for BabyC: when she started biting while nursing, at about 7 months old.  That behavior was not one that I could laugh about or put off dealing with.  It was painful, and it was impossible to not respond.  But again, it took me off guard and took me some time to figure out how to respond appropriately. 

The first few times it happened, I think I said “OWWW” loudly and pushed her off but then continued nursing once I had pulled myself together.  Then came the time that BabyC bit me, watched my response, and then grinned at me with glee:  “Mama, isn’t this game FUN?!”  No, BabyC, it is not.  I said my firmest “NO” (I have had a lot of practice with that voice with my dog), quietly removed BabyC from my breast, and set her on the ground.  She looked up at me inquisitively, and I ignored her.  I think I had to do that one other time before the biting stopped.  It turns out that BabyC is not too young to learn – maybe not right from wrong – but at least what games I do and don’t find fun.

So, this discipline thing is new territory for Husband and I, but we’ve decided that it is time to set and enforce some limits – no more attacking the cat, no more standing in the bathtub, and absolutely no biting.  We’ve started talking about what our discipline style will be, which is fodder for another post, because our own parents had very different styles.  I recently read this post and the resulting discussion from the “regarding baby” blog (It IS Possible To Discipline Children Effectively Without Shame- A Very Personal Post), and that solidified my intention to discipline with respect and to absolutely exclude physical punishment from our discipline strategy. 

 

When did you find that you had to start setting boundaries for your baby?  And what worked for you?  We need all the help we can get!

Relax, you don’t matter that much anyway.

Has it been a long week?  Has your child been trying your patience?  Are you so overwhelmed with parenting advice from people like me that you are feeling like you can’t possibly get everything right?

 

It is time to pour yourself a glass of wine, put up your feet, and listen to the  

Freakonomics Radio Podcast:  “The Economist’s Guide to Parenting”

The podcast is an hour long, and you might feel like you really don’t have time to sit and listen to it.  But if you do actually listen to what these folks have to say, you'll probably feel like you should put your feet up more often, because to summarize the Freakonomics Team’s major findings, “Parents just don’t matter as much as we think they do” and “obsessive parenting has few rewards.”  Plus these guys are really entertaining.

Some other highlights (but really, listen to it yourself):

Your kids don’t need a different scheduled activity every day.  It won’t make you or your kids happier, and it won’t make your kids more successful in life.

If you smoke, your kids are more likely to be smokers, too.  Quit smoking – it could be the most important way that you can influence your kids.

How you treat other people – the example that you set – will likely influence how your kids treat other people in their lives.

Stress, anxiety, and guilt will not make you a better parent.

Best of all:  “At the end of the day, the BEST parent is probably the happiest parent.”

So give yourself a break.  Make a little time for yourself this weekend.  Don’t worry so much.  And then go have fun with your kids.

In memory of my dad... and in celebration of my soon-to-be-dad husband

For many years, Father's Day was not a holiday that I celebrated. I would be vaguely aware of its passing because of the surge in advertisements for cool electronics and Hallmark cards. My father died suddenly in an accident when I was 12 years old. I started to notice other days - like the anniversary of his death - and I gradually, with some sadness, forgot about Father's Day.

In the last couple of years, I have added Father's Day back to my list of days of note, because I now have a father-in-law. He is the kind of person who is religious about sending cards and calling on important holidays. Without fail, he will sing "Happy Birthday to you" over the phone to us on our birthdays. I appreciate this celebration of the people we love, and I'm happy every year to make sure that we send a card and give him a call on Father's Day.

Today, I had the thrill of wishing my husband a Happy Father's Day. I didn't get a card or a gift, just acknowledged him and his role in our growing family. Next year, you can bet that I'll make a bigger deal of it. I welcome the return of Father's Day. I have certainly felt the absence of my father in my life. I always think of my dad the most on the happiest of days - like my wedding day - and cry a little that he isn't there to share it. I'm sure I will have the same sort of emotions on the day that my child is born. This sadness will be just one of many emotions, and I imagine I will mostly feel overwhelming joy. And so we remember the past and honor our family, but we celebrate the joys of today and those to come.