Lessons from the Young and the Old

I went to my sister’s house today. While all of us were sitting around the kitchen table eating lunch, Charis, my four-year-old niece, posed a question to her parents: “How old do I have to be before I know when I’m eating too much candy?”

Her dad then replied: “You’re old enough now, Charis.”

It was cute.

It also made me consider whether we, as adults, have ever asked ourselves when we have indulged in too much ____________ [insert your vice here]. Have we exercised enough self-control when what we have been guilty of indulging in has robbed us from time with God, time with family, time with friends?

~~~

For the past week, Nathaniel has gradually learned to sleep on his own. God has been so good to this family. I didn’t have to suffer too much. Just a few nights of crying, but the crying, with time and patience, was consolable. I’ll study his behavior for another week or so to see if this amazing behavior keeps up. When he’s tired now, it’s almost like he wants me to put him in his crib. All I have to do his put him there, turn on the mobile, and leave the room. Within ten to twenty minutes, when I go back to check on him again, he’s usually asleep, with little or no fussing.

It’s remarkable how good it makes me feel to know that Nathaniel is learning this one act of independence. I can’t imagine what will be ahead—when he begins to learn other things. To be honest, I’m the one who has to let go. At night, I feel comforted when he’s lying next to me: then I can hear his breathing, put covers on him when he’s kicked it off, hold back his arms when he’s scratching his own face in his sleep, etc. When he’s in the next room, it’s almost like I have to “trust” that he’s okay, even though I’m not there watching him every minute.

About a month ago, I emailed one of my seminary professors for parenting advice. I inquired about when discipline of a child begins. I had doubts about whether it was too early at this stage—or was I simply too scared to make sacrifices for Nathaniel’s own good? I wanted counseling from a Christian/biblical perspective—as that is the only perspective I can really trust. His response was what affirmed my resolve to begin training Nathaniel right away. God showed his grace by allowing me to witness results almost immediately. This gave me the impetus to persevere in doing what I was doing. And as I described above—the discipline was and is still working. (Praise the Lord!)

For any new mothers reading this blog, I am going to paste his advice below in case it might help you as well (my goodness, it’s almost 6:00 p.m.—Nathaniel has been sleeping since 2:30 p.m. I hope that doesn’t disrupt his sleep tonight):

Each child is unique, so no ready made formula will fit Nathaniel. However, if you stick to the basics, I cannot foresee any problems with him growing up to be the man he should be.

1. Infants need lots of interaction: conversing, playing, embracing, kissing, etc. You cannot overdo this.

2. Some structure should be in place early in the life of the child. We fed, changed, and played with them regularly; however, we also gave them a routine. We made them sleep at set times in the day when they were tired, established a regular bedtime at night, and yes, after a while we encouraged them to sleep through by refraining to pick them up, even though they cried. Bear in mind, first, we made sure that they were not sick, hungry or wet. Once we eliminated all of these, we resisted the urge to pick them up or let them sleep in our bed, a bad habit that is hard to cure! This latter decision caused us great angst, since the natural inclination is to respond immediately to the cry of your offspring. But we realized that children want constant attention, day and night, and that crying is the primary means of getting what they desire. So we had to make the painful choice at times not to respond, just because they cried.

Parents must balance their responsibilities to their infants, with their responsibilities to their spouses, extended family, and society as a whole. This structure, worked excellent for them and for us. We maintained our sanity! And by 7:30 at night, we could entertain in our homes or spend time as a couple, because our children were in bed asleep. As soon as our children realized that they would not get what they want just by crying, they gave up, slept or played with the toys in their environment. They also learnt that life was not all about them.

Now although there seems to be some benefit to this approach, it is only one approach. Thus, if you are uncomfortable with the advice you received, regarding feeding and sleeping through, you should explore other approaches that may be more acceptable to you.

3. The key to parenting, however, is consistency. Once you have established a set of rules, you should endeavour to abide by them. This will be useful for Nathaniel throughout his childhood years.

4. At the end of the day, this is your baby, not mom's, dad's, aunt Jane or uncle Ben. He is God's gift to you both; therefore, consult His Word for principles and trust His wisdom in tricky spots to guide you.

5. Remember, all parents make "mistakes" in parenting. Generally, these are overcome over the long run, if we love our children, instruct them in the right way, and live consistent and exemplary lives before them.

Bottom line: don’t stress yourself about getting it right. Enjoy your baby, encourage and reinforce good habits, trust him to the Lord in prayer, and just use plain old fashion common sense.

I am well aware, that this is more advice, precisely the problem you are having. Therefore, please feel free to discard all the above, except the part about the Lord!

My professor’s advice made me realize that I had to keep a bigger perspective in mind—and that included my family (especially my husband) and my spiritual life. Last night, Nathaniel fell asleep at 7:15 and woke at 12:05 a.m. As a result, Lee came home, and for the FIRST time in four months, he and I were able to spend time together in the evening without Nathaniel. In addition, for the past few days, I’ve had so much more time to read the Bible and write—two things I’ve been itching to do but had difficulty doing because of the short, short windows of sleep Nathaniel was getting.

I shall wait for what is to come in the next few weeks, but I shall give everything over to my God. Every step I take in parenting Nathaniel, I will hand over to my Father in Heaven. I offer all my thanks to Him, for He has proven Himself faithful again and again in my life.

Comfort in the Steadfastness of His Word

Just finished reading the book of Isaiah this morning.

Last night, when Nathaniel woke up only two hours after his last feeding—3:30 a.m.—I was determined not to feed him. I put up with an hour and a half of his crying before feeding him. The pacifier failed me. So did singing him a lullaby (although it had worked the night before). He was resolute in wanting to suck to sleep. My sister was right: the older he is, the stronger his will is. At least at three months, I had a chance of distracting him with some other activity, offering him an alternative.

Lying in bed, tired and exasperated by Nathaniel’s persistent crying, I find it easy to become skeptical about whether this is the way to go. It would be much more simple if I just fed him when he wanted (not need, want—there is a reason why he’s over 15 lbs at four months). If my job was simply to gratify his immediate demands so as to keep him happy all the time (as in, not crying), I wouldn’t have to be tormented by his howling discomfort. But I am relying and trusting the advice of my mom, my sister, and my close friends who are also new mothers: Nathaniel needs to learn to fall asleep on his own.

So as I was lying in bed in the early hours of the morning, I thought about the connection between what I have been reading in Isaiah and what I am experiencing. How God is unchangeable, always faithful, true to his promises. That amidst the darkness and chaos of sin, we can anchor our hope in his divine promises.

“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out form my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, and it shall accomplish that which I purpose and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.” Isaiah 55:10-11

And as such, we can walk in obedience to God’s Word, even when we are facing challenges, temptations, self-doubt, and wonderment about whether we are going in the right way. Even when it is inconvenient or uncomfortable for us to do so. God’s Word provides magnificent assurance of what direction we are to head toward, what steps we are to take.

If it were not for some of the baby care books that I am reading or the advice of family and friends, I would, without hesitation, give in to Nathaniel’s demands (I’m pretty sure I will on the days when I can’t bear to hear his crying). One of the baby care books actually places emphasis on the necessity of teaching/disciplining a baby to fall asleep on his own: “If [the baby] isn’t able to fall asleep by himself by six months of age, the window of opportunity for learning this skill may not be open again for several months. After six months, he is likely to begin a normal phase known as separation anxiety, in which a mighty howl may erupt when you are out of his sight, especially at bedtime. As a result, if after six months he’s still used to being nursed, held, and rocked through several rounds of ‘Hey Diddle Diddle’ until he’s sound asleep, you can plan on repeating this ritual for months on end unless you are prepared to endure a vigorous and prolonged protest.” (Focus on the Family: The First Two Years, page 119-120)

Not that their words are anywhere close to the authority of God’s Word—but because of their expertise, their years of experience, their wisdom as mothers—their words do mean something, and as a result, their words give me the much needed strength and motivation to press on, though I lack the experience to discern and understand what lays ahead.

When I finish feeding Nathaniel on the rocking chair, and I look down to see a peaceful, sleeping baby resting on my lap, I can’t help but sigh and tell myself, Okay, get up. You have to put him in his crib, even if he wakes up and doesn’t go back to sleep, even if he has to cry himself to sleep. He can’t sleep on your lap forever. Oh—how much more simple it would be if I could just let him sleep on my lap, so he would get his much needed rest for the day.

I get the feeling that this is a snapshot of what disciplining a child will be like. It will require firmness, consistency, and love—coupled with a vision of Nathaniel’s future—that this is good for him, even if it is hard for me.

Lee and I pray every day for Nathaniel’s wellbeing. That God grant us wisdom and strength to raise him right. Oh how much we need his guidance.

Must stop blogging now. Nathaniel has been crying in his crib for the past forty minutes (as I am finishing this blog, he has just gone from crying to whimpering to silence... better go check on him...)

Night Wakings: No, Me

Fed Nathaniel at 11:30. He fell asleep on my lap for a while, and at around 12:35, I took the plunge and put him to sleep in the crib. He opened his eyes for several seconds and started to cry, but I stuck a pacifier in his mouth, shushed him, and helped him close his eyes. He fell back asleep. So far, it’s been a miraculous 15 minutes.

For some reason, the past few days, I’ve been hesitant about putting him in the crib. At four months, he seems to be going through “separation anxiety” of some sort. He’s crying much sooner when I put him down, and his lungs are much stronger now, because he’s crying much louder too. When I’m cooking or whatnot, I watch him—tears are streaming down his face and he’s got a serious, desperate look on his face. When I’m well-rested and healthy (as in, no blocked ducts), I feel like giving in and holding him.

His sleeping habits have been awful the past week. He’s waking up on average every two to three hours for a feeding. I’m beginning to wonder whether this is God’s way of telling me that I need to put him in the crib for the night. That Nathaniel is getting too used to having my being next to him that he thinks that “nighttime” means he gets an Open Bar for the next ten hours. I have to keep reminding myself of what my mom said about determination and persistence. I have to tell myself that I need to make short-term sacrifices for long-term gain. Sigh. Am I ready?

I have awful memories of swimming lessons during my younger days. Besides being made fun of by this one boy while I was doing the front crawl (I was always swimming too slowly and he always caught up to me from behind), I hated it when it came time to take turns to jump off the diving board. Because once you went up that ladder, there was no turning back, because all your peers wee waiting their turn. Then you walk up to the edge of the diving board, look down, down, down, at the waters below, and you pray hard that you don’t do a belly flop. This is the picture in my head when I think about putting Nathaniel in the crib permanently. “X” number of nights of crying, crying, crying. No sleep. No sleep. No sleep.

Since I’m continually being awakened by Nathaniel when I’m in deep sleep, I am remembering my dreams more. I can usually recall them during the day, and remember them vividly enough to share them with the husband. Lately, I’ve been having a lot of dreams where Lee is in “physical” trouble, and I do my best to try to save him, but I can’t. Last week, I told Lee that I had a dream that a big, muscular guy forced himself through the window on the driver’s side of our car and began strangling him. I was sitting on the passenger’s side, screaming, trying to pry the guy’s arms off Lee’s neck, but it was to no avail, Lee fell unconscious. Then Nathaniel woke me up. It was the scariest thing—because the dream had been so real. Then, the other night, I had a dream that I was in battle. All of us were clad in our armor. This fearsome soldier circulated the field, looking for Lee, ready to decapitate him, and here I was, running after the solider in an attempt to save Lee. I’m not sure, psychologically, what these dreams mean, but I’m supposing that it’s because, ever since Nathaniel has been born, I’ve grown much more dependent on Lee, and such dreams may be a manifestation of my fear of losing him.

Being awakened every few hours isn’t fun, especially when I can’t fall back sleep. On the bright side, as long as Nathaniel can fall back asleep, I can’t complain too much, I guess. Better him than me. During those insomniac moments, however, my mind wanders a lot, and I always hope that the next day, there might be a window for me to write it all down. Rarely does this happen, so since Nathaniel is sleeping, I’m trying to maximize my opportunity (though I really should be using this hard-won moment to shower…).

I just finished Dr. James Dobson’s Bringing up Boys today during my last feeding. I got so much insight from this book that it’s hard to know where to begin regarding expressing my response to it. I’ve been sharing a lot of it with Lee, and underlining the parts in the book that I hope Lee will pay attention to (he started reading it last night). It’ll also be interesting to hear his take on it when he’s done since he’s the BOY.

But since my time is always limited and I predict Nathaniel will wake up soon (whoa—he’s been sleeping for 40 minutes already!), I shall respond to the points Dr. Dobson makes in the order which he makes them in the book (so if I don’t tackle a point in this entry, it shall resurface in a future entry). I shall bring up the points that hit home regarding my own childhood upbringing.

My parents were “followers” of Dr. Dobson’s parenting principles as well. I remember in high school, I found Hide and Seek on their book shelf and went through it out of curiosity—in the book were my parents’ pencil marks on points they found important. So here I am, decades later, doing the exact same thing they did.

Chapter Five is entitled, “The Essential Father,” in which Dr. Dobson writes, “Let me emphasize again that boys suffer most from the absence or noninvolvement of fathers.” [Nathaniel awakens] He continues later by saying, a Father’s “legacy is like that of countless fathers who were too busy, too selfish, and too distracted to care for the little boys who reached for them… When a father is uninvolved—when he doesn’t love or care for his kids—it creates an ache, a longing, that will linger for decades.”

It’s this last part that hits a soft spot in my heart because I have come to experience that aching and longing. Thirty years old, and I still have trouble letting go of the fact that my dad didn’t spend enough time with us when we were kids. Enough so that the pains of my dad’s absence during my childhood years inspired many scenes in one of my short stories. I turned a painful truth in my past and gave it a fictionalized setting.

Granted, I have come to understand that perhaps my dad communicates his love to me differently. Perhaps providing for the family financially is his love language. Never did our family ever have to worry about shelter, food, education. My dad was (is) an ambitious, hard-working man. His being a visionary and successful businessman has led to his success in starting two big companies in the past two decades. He’s appeared in the Globe and Mail and the front cover of some magazine whose name I’ve already forgotten.

Perhaps one of the most heart-wrenching questions that haunted me during my childhood was this, “Did my dad love his work more, or me?” As a child, I never knew. He spent enough time at the office to make me think it was the former.

It is with this skeleton in the closet that makes all sorts of emotions surge inside me as I read Dr. Dobson’s words on the importance of a parent’s role in the home.

Of course, even before reading his book, I’ve always grown up wanting something different for my own future family (that’s what we all do, right?). When I was single, I was careful about which guys I was interested in. The one who appeared overly ambitious was the one that I tried to stay away from. I’m blessed to have Lee. He works hard—because he has to (as he says). But most of the time, when he comes home, I have no doubt that he’d rather be spending it there with me than anywhere else.

More on these thoughts later… Nathaniel’s crying is intensifying…

Baby and Marriage Snapshots & Lessons Learned

The other night, at 4:30 a.m., Nathaniel awakens. It’s pitch dark in the master bedroom, and I deliberately do not turn on the lights in hope that Nathaniel will fall back asleep. Instead, for a good 45 minutes, even though I’m crouched silently at the edge of the bed (so he doesn’t notice I’m there—because any sight of me will make him cry for milk), I listen to him suck his hands, excitedly kick his feet, and talk. Yes, talk (night time is usually completely quiet in the bedroom unless Nathaniel wants milk—never is it play time). And he talks loudly. And since he can’t see me in the darkness, or anything else for that matter, I have to wonder what he’s thinking all that time when he’s making all sorts of sounds. Normally, I would have been more stressed by his waking, but I found myself attentive and amused.

Even worse (grin), I decided to turn my “lemon” moment into “lemonade.” Nathaniel manages to turn his body all around, 90 degrees so that his feet are now kicking my back. I wind up edging myself closer to the bottom his feet, and I get a good twenty-minute massage out of it (he kicks pretty hard). After 45 minutes, when he finally starts to whine, I turn on the lights. I LOVE it. His big eyes gaze into mine. Blink. Blink. Smile. I melt. Okay—let’s not follow the rules of the baby care books tonight (no social interaction with the baby in the nighttime)—at 5:15 a.m., I’m talking back to the baby and tickling him, and having fun with him until six in the morning. Luckily, we sleep in that morning until eleven.

At the moment, I’m also breaking another rule. He’s sleeping on my lap right now (his fingers are twitching while he’s sleeping, it’s so cute). I know I should be hoisting him up and putting him in his crib and letting him cry until he takes his morning nap in his crib—but this morning, I don’t feel like doing that to him. I guess my mood changes from day to day. Sometimes I’m totally fine with disciplining him, and on some days, I can’t help but indulge him a little (often, this has a strong correlation to the amount of energy I have and how much I slept the night before).


Lee said something sweet to me the other night. During dinner, as I was serving him Beef, Potatoes and Carrots in Coconut Curry Sauce on Rice, he comments, “I have my chef back.” I smile. Month three was when I began to cook regularly again. I learned to split up my dinner preparation throughout the day to minimize Nathaniel’s crying (yes, he cries still every time I put him down to do household chores). First window: Wash and chop up vegetables. Second window: Marinade the meat. Third window: Cook rice, fill pots with water or what not. Fourth Window: Put dishes in dishwasher. Etc. Etc. Etc.

Now that I’m sleeping more, I’m back to taking joy in making Lee a nice, welcoming dinner. I know he works hard during the day, and I imagine it’s a great relief when he comes home and is greeted by the aroma of food cooking on the stove, slow cooker or oven. On my lazy days, of course, I’ve got frozen M & M’s in the freezer, frozen dumplings with instant noodles, or marinated meat for Lee to cook on the barbeque.

I heard a sermon in chapel last spring about the importance of looking for evidences of grace in our brothers and sisters. I have to remind myself quite often to do so with the husband. Sometimes, without knowing it, I wind up spending more time telling Lee what he should or shouldn’t do instead of raising him up. (The most popular phrase since Nathaniel came into the picture, “Shhhh… quiet, the baby’s sleeping!” It gets frustrating for the husband at times because he complains that it’s impossible to stay completely quiet all the time. Then I get frustrated at times because it takes so much effort to put a baby to sleep.) Of course, he says, now and then, he finds that I nag him, and I say, in my defense, that it’s “not” nagging, because if he remembered to do _______ (INSERT TASK) the first time around, there wouldn’t be any need to tell him again.

With a baby in the picture now, the frequency and need for both he and I to tell each other what to do (i.e., regarding household chores, errands to run, budget concerns, etc.) has increased—but we’ve learned better how to communicate to one another over the past several months—we express our wishes with much more courtesy, and have also learned to withhold our grievances when we realize it’s really not necessary to utter them.

During the first two months, for example, when Lee returned to work after two weeks of vacation, I became much more in tune with Nathaniel’s habits. Then, when Lee came home from work and I handed Nathaniel to him (while I began cooking dinner), I would hear Nathaniel crying and fussing. Lee would do his best to do this and that, but initially, at times, it was to no avail. During those months, here and there, I would give Lee specific instructions, thinking I was helping him (i.e., “No, hold him this way, not that way—he doesn’t like that,” or, “Don’t let him look at the television,” “Don’t diaper him too tightly,” etc.), until it came to the point when Lee snapped at me one night, “Stop criticizing me with everything I’m doing with the baby.” Then he had marched out of the room with Nathaniel in his arms.

I was upset at first, because I felt my intentions were good. But it was then that I had to learn to give my husband the freedom to learn for himself how to take care of Nathaniel. Now that Nathaniel is four months old, I realize even more the benefit of doing so. There is a special bond that Lee is capable of developing with Nathaniel that I cannot. First: a lot of the time, all I remind Nathaniel of is that I’m his source of food. Second: Lee can play with him in ways I cannot. I notice during his play with Nathaniel, that he’s a lot more “rough” with Nathaniel (at first, this scared me and I would keep telling Lee to be more gentle with him), but then I realized that it didn’t really bother Nathaniel (it bothered me more than it bothered him). Having learned this fact, I’m enjoying watching Father and Son play together a lot more. This was one of the crucial lessons that I learned these past months: keeping silent, learning to relax, letting the husband be his own when with his son. Since then, the doors have opened between he and Nathaniel—there are things that Lee does that makes Nathaniel laugh which I can’t do—and it’s that very fact that makes me enjoy watching them so much. (I'm in the middle of reading Dr. James Dobson's Bringing up Boys, which discusses the Father and Son relationship... more on this book when I'm done.)

Last night, as Nathaniel and I retired to bed at 9:30 p.m., I say good night to my husband. I say sweetly to him, “Can I get a hand massage before I go to sleep?” My husband, then says, “Say something nice about me first” (he likes to say that playfully to me whenever I ask him for services such as these), so I say, in an equally playful manner, “You’re really good-looking.” He shakes his head. “No, that’s not genuine. I want something genuine.” “Okay, okay,” I pause, and think about it. Then I say, “I’ve noticed in the past two weeks, you’ve grown a lot more patient.” When he begins massaging my hand, I know that he deems my statement genuine.

Making Time for Worship

Twenty minutes ago, Nathaniel fell asleep in my arms while I was sitting in the rocking chair. I waited for enough time to pass before setting him down in the crib. I was unsuccessful. He opened his eyes, began to pout. I rubbed his tummy and tried to shush him back to sleep but was unsuccessful. He has been crying intensely for the past ten minutes. I thought I would give it twenty before tending to him. Enough time for a short entry.

Ever since Nathaniel has been born, it has been a challenge to sit through a complete church service or fellowship gathering. Only once in the past four months has he fallen asleep during an entire service. As a result, it’s hard to feel like I’ve “worshipped” on Sunday’s. Initially, I borrowed my dad’s CD series of Rev. Charles Price sermons to listen to in the car during the week to make up for it. It has helped somewhat—at least I feel I’m still learning about God’s Word.

Lee and I have been trying to attend our career fellowship, but it’s the same—the weekend evening start time no longer works for us when the baby gets fussy as soon as it nears eight or nine in the evening. Plus, I don’t think it’s very fair to Nathaniel to impose our “adult schedule” on him. Babies take comfort in familiarity and routine.

It’s a bit better when the fellowship program is at our house. Lee and I used to lead Bible studies together, but now it’s all him while I’m busy keeping the baby quiet as he is leading (boy do my arms and wrist hurt by the end of the evening!). This past Saturday, he led a Bible study on Joshua 23 (we’ve been focusing on the book of Joshua since the winter).

I have to admit—one of the things about breastfeeding now is that, on the occasion, I feel cut off from the rest of the group. I love a good conversation, and I love a good discussion during an interactive fellowship program—so to have to leave mid-way to feed Nathaniel for half an hour—takes some getting used to, especially since I love listening to my husband whenever he has to lead a program. Which is what happened again this past Saturday. I sat on the rocking chair upstairs in the master bedroom and tried to listen to the discussion going on downstairs, but couldn’t make it out. All the while, I’m looking at Nathaniel, hoping he’d eat faster so I could go back downstairs again. I had to remind myself at that point that Nathaniel comes first now, and for me to focus on feeding him rather than tending to my own yearnings.

As it grew closer to nine, I put Nathaniel in the crib, hoping he would fall asleep so I could join the final portion of the Bible study. Of course, it didn’t work, he was crying his head off, which I’m sure probably vexed some of the fellowship attendees (his crying ringing throughout the house—really no need for a baby monitor). When I sat down in the family room to join the group, I realized Lee’s Bible was closed already. “You’re finished?” I asked. He looked at me. “Pretty much,” he said. I put my hand gently on my husband's back, then whispered, “Can you get Nathaniel ready for bed then, and I’ll lead the prayer portion?” He nodded and went upstairs. The group then began to share our prayer requests and praises.

The reason I felt a need to blog was that, in these short twenty minutes of prayer sharing and group prayer, I had felt a deep sense of spiritual intimacy with the group—which I hadn’t felt since before Nathaniel was born. I appreciated it so much, and valued the spiritual thirst of the brothers and sisters there.

One of the couples who attended are expecting a baby in January, and it came to me that perhaps we could start our own small group with them next year (an English speaking small group for “new parents” does not exist yet in our church). I shared this with Lee that night and he concurred. The next day at church, I spoke to the Father-to-be, and he said that the idea came upon them as well after Saturday night’s program. Of course, both of us have to pray about this possible new direction—but I am amazed at how quickly God has answered my prayer.

Nathaniel’s intense crying has turned to fussing. Let’s hope he’s beginning to fall asleep.