Status

The Natural Waves of Infant Sleep

My precious person is 12 weeks old tomorrow.

She is by far and away the sleepiest of my three and she has pretty much slept off her fourth trimester

I’m talking 3 hour day naps and 8-10 hour blocks at night.

Yep, I’ve put up my umbrella to shield the lemons coming my way for admitting that.

She’s one chilled little customer and though she’s had her ‘needier’ days, by and large, sleep has come easily to her.

She’s been boobed to sleep, cuddled, rocked and carrier napped each and every time. She’s easily transferred to her basket and side car cot 90% of the time.

She’s never been ‘taught’ to ‘self soothe’ but she obviously links sleep cycles just fine.

But suddenly, these last 3 days and nights, she’s catnapping like an expert …

She’s barely making 2-3 hours without waking to nurse at night …

Regression’ I hear them cry!

But, with even the smallest amount of observation, I can see my sweet babe is far from going backwards, she’s actually progressing with impressive speed.

Yes, her sleep has changed.

Yes, she is clearly needing more assistance than she did last week.

But a regression implies she has somehow ‘lost’ some ‘abilities’ and this is simply not true.

Her rapidly growing mind and body are hard at work.

She isn’t the same as she was last week.

She’s more advanced and far more ‘awake’ to her world.

Sure, she’s tiring more quickly. She was lasting between 1.5 to 2 hours between naps but after a catnap she’s lucky to make an hour but can you blame her?!?

The hour she is awake she doesn’t stop moving!

Little hands that can now grasp an object!

Little hands that can now open and move things with supreme concentration.

Little voice that chats and experiments with a range of sounds.

Little bright eyes that smile and light up at the sights before her.

Little chuckles and giggles that burst from within

Little legs that kick, push and dig in.

A little torso that twists and arches with attempts to roll becoming closer and closer to reality.

She’s nursing more often, needing more help to calm off to sleep and waking more frequently, but not because she has forgotten some mad sleep skills and in need of re-training.

She may not get back to the 8-10 hour blocks at night for the next month, year or even for life (I never make more than 4-5 hours before waking for a sip of water and/ or a toilet break and I’m 36 years old …) and that is okay.

I’m not sitting here wishing and praying for the sleep to return.

I’ve spent far too much time doing that in the past.

I’m living for the now.

She is only asking of me what she needs right now and I’m here to walk right beside her at this time in her life when she needs me so intensely.

I could ask all the questions, I could keep dreaming of the day, I could lament the hours of sleep lost but I don’t want to waste my precious energy on questions that have no answers and time since past.

I will spend my days in awe of what a small human learns in these early days, weeks, months and years and my nights knowing I am exactly where I need to be.

I’ll ride this wave with my darling and you can be sure I’ll be straight back there with her for the next one and the one after that.

We are in this together, my sweet love and I.

It’s an honour and privilege to be her mum ❤️

💕Enjoying reading Grubby Mummy articles? Join us on Facebook 💕

❤️Needing some solidarity and support as you are you make your way through this time in life? Join The Beyond Sleep Training Project on Facebook ❤️

Advertisements
Status

Reflections on weaning

It’s been two weeks since you last tried to breastfeed.

It’s been much longer since you last nursed.

I can’t remember our last feed.

25 months almost to the day, you had your last attempt to see if there was anything left in your beloved ‘boobies’ and as you latched on and came off almost as quickly, you declared to me and your dad and big brother, ‘nothing there’ before diving off my lap and jumping onto the bed and laying down next to daddy and and bro to enjoy a bedtime story instead.

You weren’t sad.

You were very matter of fact about it.

There was simply nothing there now and you left it at that.

The warning signs were there, you’d been reporting for weeks that, ‘not much there, mum’.

You seemed happy enough to get what you could while it lasted.

My supply had been in steep decline as the pregnancy hormones ramped up.

Weaning by pregnancy it seems, is what I do.

My first was weaned at 16 months due partially to pregnancy but also with a heavy push by me due to near- unbearable nursing aversions (no doubt pregnancy related).

I night weaned my extremely high needs guy when he was 15 months and though I sought gentle advice and supported my baby throughout, I have to admit now, in hindsight, that the process was indeed quite traumatic for my guy. Not just in the ‘I don’t want you taking away my boob’ kind of way, but in a more distressing, ‘I still really needed that mama, I wasn’t really ready’ kind of way.

I don’t harbour guilt for this though. I did the best I could in the circumstances and with the knowledge and experiences I had.

This second baby though, has really highlighted to me how gentle the weaning process can be, even if it is parent-led in parts, once a child is ready for the change.

Night weaning my second was a breeze at nearly 20 months. I could still feed him to sleep. I had just worked hard to ensure he understood that once he had night boobie, the boobs would sleep until the sun came up. It took exactly zero tears for him to get the hang of it. He was ready. He was able to understand. He felt supported and capable.

As far as day weaning went, well ‘don’t offer, don’t refuse’ worked brilliantly with my first (who actually Day weaned easily after the night weaning was done), but my second guy never needed me to offer, as he asked about 50 billion times a day, so I found distraction and delaying (we can have boobie when we get home from the library) was a better technique for us. Once the frequency decreased, it decreased rapidly, as did my supply thanks to pregnancy and the normal drop you’d expect from reduced nursing.

Before I knew it, we were only nursing twice a day- one before his lunchtime nap and once at bedtime.

Then his reports began, ‘not much there, mum’ and we had to find new ways for him to find sleep.

I wish I could recall the last time he had a big long nursing session in my arms, but I can’t.

I had no idea it was our last.

I can’t even remember the last time he fell asleep nursing.

I had no idea it was our last.

Because weaning was so gradual and slow, with very steady decline and no rapid changes, I didn’t even feel the effect on my boobs nor my emotions. No weaning blues like I had with my first after such a rapid wean. Certainly no sore boobs or discomfort.

Just a faded memory of what was our 25 month nursing journey.

A journey I shall treasure for life.

Through tongue tie, oversupply, severe engorgement, mastitis, mastitis again, growth spurts, all-night sessions, sick baby , scared baby, sore baby, teething baby, snuggly baby, busy baby, tired baby … nursing saw us through.

And so, as I reflect on a time now in the past as I look forward to the dawning of a new journey later this year, I am overwhelmed with gratitude and awe. I will be forever grateful for getting to nurse my babies and in awe of the incredible power of breastfeeding and the role it has played in my mothering experience.

💙Enjoying reading Grubby Mummy articles? Join us on Facebook 💙

❤️Needing support, solidarity and gentleness on your journey? Join us at The Beyond Sleep Training Project ❤️

Status

Should we expect sympathy and support from everyone?

 
I have been told on more than one occasion that for someone who talks a lot about empathising and sympathising, I lack empathy and sympathy for mothers who are experiencing challenges.  I have been told I create an ‘us and them’ and a competitive edge to parenting challenges that shouldn’t exist.

I’m a massive over thinker and muller of all things, particularly criticism, so I’ve thought about this a lot and I’ve observed similar accusations being levelled at others which helped me see that this is a greater issue.

In my situation, this relates to my voicing my experience of having to weather hearing people complain of their exhaustion and frustration with their child’s sleep when what they claim is nearly killing them is the kind of night’s sleep I used to only be able to dream of.

Apparently, I shouldn’t feel that way because sleep deprivation isn’t a competition or a pissing contest and maybe that mother who has been getting hours of solid sleep every night while I was lucky to get 30 minutes in a row really WAS as exhausted as I was because we all experience these things differently.

Where was my empathy for this mother while demanding she recognise me?!?

Honestly, merely thinking on this at the height of my extreme sleep deprivation would have seen me in tears of despair.

No one seemed to be able to see me and my struggle in real light without minimising it with faux empathy. They couldn’t give true empathy because unless you’ve lived it, you can’t actually empathise with what was going on a deeper, more meaningful way.

What was needed was sympathy but even that was in short supply.

But where was my sympathy?

Well you know what? As the person at the very fringe of sanity, deep in the hell hole of deepest darkest, relentless sleep deprivation, I honestly had to leave the sympathy for those not so up to their neck in it, to others who could empathise or sympathise without it causing physical anxiety and despair.

There is always someone worse off than us in this world.

That is most certainly true.

It’s true in every facet of life.

It is such an important perspective to keep and I never, in all my time felt like I had nothing to be grateful for.

But, I think this perspective can also help us to recognise in any given context, when someone simply should not have the onus on them to be providing sympathy and support to another.

I say onus as expectation, because I am sure some outstanding humans are able to remove their own struggles well enough to offer the required sympathy and support but I simply do not believe it should be a given.

For me and millions of mothers like me, when I was at my lowest ebb, it near broke me to hear a mother complain of her exhaustion because her baby woke twice the night before. I could not and should not have had to be her support while so heavily in need of support myself.

This applies to other areas, a mother who has been unable to meet her breastfeeding goals and is still processing her experience, should not be called upon to be the source of sympathy and support for a mother who has successfully breastfed but is facing a challenge in her journey.

The mother with a baby in NICU, who is yet to be able to hold her baby freely and has had to witness her baby having painful medical procedures, should not be called on for sympathy and support for the mother of the baby fighting off a cold.

The mother with a chronic illness or pain should not be called on for sympathy and support for the mother temporarily debilitated with an illness while still caring for her children.

In each and every scenario, these mothers DO deserve empathy, sympathy and support but the point is, it does matter where we expect it to come from.

We as mothers often bear incredible burdens.

This mothering game can be hideously lonely and isolating.

We should not be being asked to bear even more burden by our sisters in motherhood by expecting those in extremely vulnerable circumstances to minimise their own significant, genuine struggles in the name of sympathy and support for those who while also struggling, when put in perspective, their struggles are less profound.

I am past the severe sleep deprivation stage now, and I usually average 8 hours of broken sleep a night with good chunks mixed in. I am in a totally different headspace now to back in sleep deprived hell and my ability to offer sympathy and support to those facing all kinds of situations they find challenging has significantly increased.

I CAN be the source of sympathy and support and even throw a little empathy in for good measure.

The space within me that was completely taken up with self preservation has opened up again and I try to fill it with compassion and understanding.

One thing that will forever remain though is my heartfelt love, admiration and fierce defence for mothers mothering their extremely wakeful little firecrackers. They are and always will be my people.

Our shared experience is one of unimaginable relentless challenge. The stamina, the faith, the vulnerability and strength of those who live and survive this will never be lost on me.

It’s okay if you can’t relate. Just try to keep things in perspective. Seek sympathy and support from those who are capable of giving it and forgive those who, in all their humanly glory, simply cannot muster it today.

💙Enjoying reading Grubby Mummy articles? Join us on Facebook 💙

Status

Finding Myself After Becoming a Mother

I was someone before I had a baby. 
I was confident, satisfied, stimulated, happy and loved. I felt valued, productive and capable.

I liked me. The old me. The pre-kid me.

I wanted a baby so badly. I wanted to grow a family with my beautiful husband. I wanted to hold my baby and watch him grow and learn. I wanted to learn how to mother. I wanted this big life-change.

But, in all honesty, I never wanted to lose my old pre-child self. I really liked her.

I wanted her AND to be a mother.

So, when my precious little firecracker came along and blew my pre-conceived ideas about how life would be with a baby in the house, I felt completely lost.

Becoming a mother stripped me completely bare.

Over the 30 years of my life that were child-free, life had layered layer upon layer of detail to my identity. Layers of who I was. Layers of how I understood myself to be. What made me, ME.

Birth, Labour and Delivery were the first part of the stripping process.

The vulnerability, the strength, the uncertainty, the power, the completely raw, unfiltered, primal part of me I had no idea was even there was suddenly a new part of my identity. It was equal parts pride and confusion, as I had to process what my body had just experienced, all mixed in with the sudden realisation of what it means to have your very own precious human relying on you.

My body felt foreign to me.

Every day in the immediate postpartum was full of strange, unfamiliar changes taking place within my body. This body I thought I knew so well, was now unpredictable and uncomfortable.

I was tired to my very core and yet strangely energetic and charged.

My heart felt like it was expanding with love too quickly for comfort.

This piece of perfection before me, had I really helped create him?

I was amazed and impressed with the way my body managed to grow, birth and now feed my baby, how incredible was it to know my new powers.

But the days melded into night back into day, back into night again.

I hated the smell of the milk that seem to hang on my clothes. I hated not knowing if what I was doing for my baby was right or wrong. I hated when we couldn’t seem to stop the crying. I hated that I couldn’t put my baby down. I hated that he seemed to be becoming more unsettled and awake every day. I hated that I couldn’t seem to achieve even seemingly basic tasks. I hated our filthy house. I hated that I felt like I should be coping better. 

Surely something was wrong?

And this was only the first few weeks. Surely things would get better. Easier somehow.

Surely one day soon, I’d be able to feel rested once more.

But the weeks crept on. Then the months passed by.

I was stripped, further and further. Layer by layer. Until I could see nothing in myself that was there before.

I was a shell.

That pre-baby me, I loved so well? She seemed to have vanished entirely.

So, who was I then?

Just a mother? Well I seemed pretty shit at that (though my baby was pretty darn incredible so I couldn’t be all bad, could I?).
Maybe I was just my boobs? They did seem to be the only thing that made my baby happy.

Oh, but he also loved my arms. He needed them to hold him tight.

Maybe also my voice, my humming, singing and whispered words, they did seem to bring some peace.

Then I guess my face, that seemed so gaunt, unembellished, pale never seemed to fail to make that baby’s eyes sparkle the moment he’d see me. Sometimes, with the biggest of smiles and other times with arms outstretched and tears streaming down, like I was the only one who could make things right.

And I was tenacious … For months, I had tirelessly (despite being tired to my bones) sought help to try and help him with his sleep until I finally found surrender in acceptance that a part of his unique perfection was his wakeful nature. My tenacity continued but now in the form of my vow to be constant.

More months passed by and still I was constant. he maintained the waking and I kept on responding.

There was no break. Not one night to breathe.

My stripping back continued, despite being convinced there was nothing left to lose, as I shed anything and everything I could to lighten my load and maintain my focus.

Two of the things I shed would change my world for the better-

1. keeping up the appearance that I could cope on my own

2. my tightly held pre-conceived ideas of what mothering should look like.

I started to seek active help for myself (not to fix my baby) and I became open to ideas that would allow me to mother the way I needed to mother, not the way I had decided was needed before I had even met my child nor the way society liked to tell me to do it.

I started to consciously find the light and value in my baby, our day and vitally, in me.

I came to see what was left in me once all the pretence had been stripped away.

Me, when I was pared back to my core.

I started to try to see myself the way those who loved me did.

This process, this extreme stripping of layers, gave me the space to re-evaluate, reinvigorate and redefine myself in a way I had never been able to do before.

Turns out, pre-baby me that I loved so well, well she had plenty of baggage. Her identity was clouded by a mix of things that mattered and things that were just things … superficial.

In the process of losing myself, all that was truly lost is the stuff that didn’t really matter.

More than Three years in, I no longer miss the old me. I am no longer grieving for my pre-child life.

I am absolutely in love with the newfound me.

She is the best mix of the important stuff that made me, me before as well as the learning and wisdom I have gained from the process of becoming a mother.

The incredible part is, I know that I will continue to grow and evolve as my babies grow and their intense needs lessen or shift and the space to just be ‘me’ opens up once again.


Relinquishing control, finding beauty in embracing the flow of life with a baby or toddler, surrendering to the needs of another and making space in my heart and mind.

It’s been one hell of a ride.

This fleeting season where our babies seem to consume all of us and more, provides such an important opportunity for self-growth if only we can free ourselves up to be vulnerable and open to the process.

💙Enjoying Grubby Mummy articles? Join us on Facebook 💙

Status

When self-care just becomes another ‘thing’ you have to do

I’m getting on my ranty pants here because after reading yet another article on ‘self -care essentials’ doing the rounds, I realised that for me, back in the early days of mothering both of my babies, all of these lists of ‘essentials’ essentially gave me one more thing on my very long list of ‘things you have to do if you want to succeed at this mothering business’ and in all honesty, I didn’t need one more f#%^ing thing I was SUPPOSED to do as I already had more than my fill of shit to do with my time.

Does that mean I didn’t care for myself?

Hell, no!!

I f#%^ing cared. But sometimes, my self care was to just say, ‘you know what, I give myself permission to just do whatever the hell feels like the path of least resistance today’ and that sure as shit didn’t involve me scheduling in ANOTHER thing I had to do for myself that day (unless that thing was simply to make sure I ate something other than toddler leftovers or didn’t give a shit that the washing was wet and stale in the basket).

So many self care essentials focus on you needing to be ‘solo’ to care for yourself but despite me leading an extremely privileged life this was not always possible and was often impossible in the early days with my babies (so if it was hard for me, I’ve no doubt it is downright impossible for most).

I didn’t need to be told to block out time for ‘me’ when the only time I got to myself each day was the 15 minute shower I had once both kids were in bed each night … that WAS my ‘me’ time and heck yes, I savoured it but anything more took logistics, planning and forethought and quite frankly, I wasn’t capable of that when my mental lode was already at capacity.

That’s right, my mental lode.

I know for a fact, my first time experience would have been better had I been better able to filter out the bullshit, but as a chronic over-thinker and perfectionist, it’s no great surprise that I let in more than deserved to get in and I had more than enough shit to work out in there already, so when someone would casually suggest I have pamper day because I deserved a break, my reaction was genuinely perplexed! Of course I deserved a break but I’ll be f#%^ed if I could work out how the hell this would all work and the brain power I would require to make it work was too busy being exerted in other areas.

Even second time round, all of these self care options that required any kind of logistical planning were swiftly cast aside in favour of shit I could do for myself without having to work out the how, what, when, where and why.

My self care is often child free now and I relish it but self care back in the day was rarely so and you know what, I was taking very good care of myself.

Here are the ways I practice self-care without ever really needing to practice self-care-

#1. I found and applied an effective bullshit shield

That’s right, a bullshit shield. Until you get one, you are going to live in a perpetual state of confusion as conflicting advice comes from every angle. Once you can apply a bullshit filter, you will feel more comfortable with simply doing what feels right for your unique family based on the information and support that you have in that moment. If something feels wrong, it probably means it is.

#2. I followed the path of least resistance

In the land of ‘you need to do XYZ to be a successful parent’ the hoops you must jump and boxes you must tick often fly contrary to your baby’s natural behaviour and development. If you feel like you are pushing shit uphill or fighting against the tide, I give you permission to surrender entirely. Parenting and life in general go so much more smoothly when you embrace the natural flow and follow the path of least resistance.

#3. I learned to treat myself as gently as my children

I am human and I am really bloody trying to be a good one but, I am not perfect and I will slip up and I will need to put myself in timeout and I will have days where my parenting just plain sucks and I will take shortcuts and I will throw my hands up and just say ‘whatever!’ And I will not spend the rest of my time beating myself up and feeling guilty.

I no longer strive for perfection.

I will apologise where apologies are needed and I will move on.

#4. I surrounded myself with people I enjoy

We go out A LOT. And mostly that is to surround myself and my babies with people who help us all feel good. I am incredibly lucky to have found and nurtured friendships with some of the greatest people on earth and their presence in my daily life IS my favourite kind of self- care. We all love each other and our babies so much and there is nothing like the company of other mothers who ‘just get it’ to keep you sane on the toughest of days. They have seen me in all my glory they aren’t under any illusions and guess what, they still hang out with me even when my house is a tip, I smell and I’m crying or ranting the second I see them.

#5. We spend A LOT of time outside

The outdoors are plain good for the soul and when all is going to pot … out the door we go. Sometimes we go for a walk, collect rocks, jump on the tramp, make mud pies, play with water, draw with chalk, ride bikes and other times they stand there still whining or crying at me but somehow the earth in between my toes, the sun on my face seems to help me find my calm again when it seems to have left the building and many an ‘unsettled’ / ‘I have no idea what the f%^*ing problem is’ moment have been calmed with some cuddles in the great outdoors.

Being cooped up has never been good for my soul and being outside IS a helpful way for me to care for myself while I care for my babies.

#6. If I really want/ need to do something then I ask for help and do it

That’s right, I ask for and accept help. My hand goes up and I say to my family and support crew, this little duck NEEDS to do XYZ and they/ we make it happen. Getting more comfortable with being specific about what I need has been a journey of growth but it has helped me immensely and also allowed my relationships to grow as the favours I have been bestowed have been returned in kind.

And that’s it, that’s how I care for myself without specifically practicing ‘self care’.

So, if you, like me are feeling as though ‘self care essentials’ are nothing but another pain in your arse or signal that you haven’t got this parenting shit together, rest easy my friend.

Caring for yourself doesn’t have to be complicated or pigeon holed as another task for the day. It’s the many little windows of opportunities in your day where you can take the easier option to care for yourself. It’s the options you choose because they make your heart sing or keep the family calm which keeps you calm. It’s recognising the incredible lode you carry and patting yourself on the back while also cutting yourself some slack.

Self care is not a ‘thing’ you have to do, it is a way of being, living and feeling okay within yourself while the little people in your life seem to take up so much space.

💙Enjoying reading Grubby Mummy articles? Join us on Facebook 💙

Status

My thanks to Attachment Parenting

Attachment Parenting can get a pretty bad rap.  

This is hardly surprising in a society that places little to no value on the natural, biological development of our infants and toddlers in favour of behaviourist interventions that force babies to conform to an ideal that allows adults to get back on with the more ‘important’ business of life with as little disruption to their productivity as possible.

Interestingly though, it also gets a negative review from many a mother who while initially drawn to the basic attachment parenting tenants, then found/ decided they were unable to follow them in their setting.

Plenty of mothers explain that while all of it sounded great in theory, they simply could not or would not be able to make it work for them or they felt they ‘outgrew’ this style of parenting or felt stifled and restricted by it.

A couple of weeks ago, I was reading another account of how a mother felt ‘let down’ by Attachment Parenting as her children grew older and when a subsequent child didn’t respond well to the techniques recommended.

This got me thinking about my own experience with Attachment Parenting and how it has shaped me as the mother I am and the mother I continue to strive to be.

I can say that I am eternally grateful to the Attachment Parenting movement for all of the ideas, guidance, confidence boosts and belief it has provided me with in the early phase of this mothering gig. I am grateful for all of this being done without ever feeling like I had been told what I HAD to do to mother my unique children.

I am grateful because they spoke of a norm I would otherwise not have known existed.

They offered me an explanation and coping strategies and mothering techniques that no one else told me were okay let alone what might be exactly what my baby and I needed.

They helped me see why my baby only slept calmly in my arms or on my chest and offered up babywearing and co-napping as normal and natural ways for me to meet my baby at his point of need.

They encouraged me to feel confident that my baby who breastfed SO frequently did so because this was not only his source of nutrition but also his preferred method for comfort, soothing and reconnection. They also didn’t place arbitrary limits on when my baby should stop needing me so and instead encouraged me to trust that I could follow his lead with no notion of it being ‘bad’ or that I may be stifling his development.

The work done by Attachment Parenting advocates to normalise and educate about safe bedsharing is perhaps their greatest gift to me and my family. It is, to date the single best thing I have done as a parent. It saved me, my husband and my baby. It is no exaggeration to say, my life did a complete 360 turn when I finally felt like I could make this arrangement work. I finally had a way to survive my High Need baby’s non stop extreme frequent waking. I had tried EVERYTHING to ‘fix’ him. Nothing worked. But, Attachment Parenting didn’t disown me the way mainstream advocates did. They threw me a lifeline. I could still be a ‘good’ mother even if my baby woke 59 billion times a night and on top of this, my husband and I could get the best quality sleep we could get while still meeting our baby’s needs at night.

Our night time parenting schedule remained gruelling. There was no miracle that occurred or peaceful, perfect family bed image to paint here but we could live again. We could survive and most important of all, we finally felt we could accept our baby for who he was and that included being extremely wakeful.

For me, I didn’t ever feel like I HAD to do XYZ to ‘be’ an Attachment Parent. But then again, I wasn’t striving to ‘be’ anything in particular other than the best mum I could be to my babies.

I didn’t feel constrained or judged if I needed to do things in another way as I followed my baby’s lead and my own heart.

With my second baby, my parenting repertoire was a source of great comfort to me. I had no idea who this little person would be, but I felt comfortable knowing the norms of human infant behaviour and I felt confident knowing that I had the range of skills and techniques to help me meet him at his point of need wherever that may be.

I didn’t feel bound to bedshare but I knew I would keep him close to make night time parenting manageable for me. If he needed my closeness, then into our bed he’d come. If he relished his space, I happily prepared a safe sleep space next to me in case.

I experimented continually as he grew to work out how he felt most comfortable finding and maintaining sleep by and day and night and I rolled with it. Sometimes we babywore, sometimes he slept in the pram. Other times we co-napped with a boob in his mouth or he snoozed alone on our floor bed.

I didn’t HAVE to do anything other than respond to my baby in the way that worked best for us.

As my babies grow, I thank Attachment Parenting for ensuring I continue to actively question commonly accepted mainstream practices. I have found gentle parenting, respectful parenting and peaceful parenting as well and I continue to read, grow and learn with my babies.

The single best thing Attachment Parenting has gifted me is to ensure that while I pick and choose and grow and evolve, at the heart of my parenting decisions is my heart. Decisions are made with ALL of the humans in our family considered as valuable people worthy of respect. My children’s childish nature is not held against them, just as their babyish behaviour wasn’t while they were infants.

As a family, we work as a team, to meet each other right where we are at and see value in each other for who we are.

I will be forever grateful for the healthy questioning that Attachment Parenting stirred in me. To feel confident in questioning accepted parenting practices, to look more deeply at why they are popular, what outcomes they may have and what their impact may be, intentionally or unintentionally, is so important to me.

So thank you Attachment Parenting for opening my eyes to possibilities.  
Thank you for having my back when I couldn’t fit with the mainstream.  
Thanks for having my baby’s back when my faith in him was at its lowest.  
Your work in this world is so needed.  

💙Enjoying reading Grubby Mummy articles? Join us on Facebook 💙

Status

Accepting the Reality of Infant and Toddler Sleep

Imagine if we, as a society accepted normal infant and toddler sleep. 

I mean really accepted it, in all its glory. 

Every part of society, from every generation, every family, every profession, every community, every culture, every religion.

What if we knew and accepted it as expected and respected elements of a child’s development? 
What if everybody knew well before having their own children that their child would need night time parenting for the first few years of life? 
If everybody knew that waking frequently to nurse was the biologically normal way for an infant/ toddler human to sleep? 
If everybody knew that we are in fact ‘carry mammals’ and that our young require near constant contact with a caregiver for the first few months to continue their growth and development outside of the womb? 
If everybody knew that a baby’s and toddler’s sleep can fluctuate a lot  over the first couple of years as they grow and develop at a phenomenal rate? 
If everybody recognised that a baby’s and toddler’s need for comfort, closeness and nurturing at night is just as valid and important as their need for these things during the day? 
What if nobody doubted the value of night time parenting and wouldn’t even for a moment consider that they could trade it off so they could be a ‘better’ parent by day? 

We, as a society, would come at infant and toddler sleep from a whole other place than we do right now.

There’d be no sleep training and therefore no sleep training industry.

There would be less focus on the baby and their behaviour and more focus on the dyad as a dynamic pair and nurturing the nurturer.

There would be focus on all levels from family right through to the political sphere on the kinds of support families need to navigate this time in their lives.

Antenatal classes and Mums and Bubs groups would be all about helping mothers to build their support network and discovering options that will allow them to meet their baby’s needs while also meeting their own.

For mothers who are struggling with intense high needs babies, the support would recognise the extra level of challenge these mother face as they run the Ultra Marathon of her life and help put the supports in place that mother needs and deserves.

Mothers with mental health concerns would be nurtured and treated in ways that respect her child’s legitimate needs day and night.

Families making decisions about paid employment would do so with the full knowledge that their baby will still require night time parenting.

Wouldn’t the world look so different to the way it does right now.?


The stress, strain, struggle and sacrifices made all because so few people know and recognise what has always been and always will be the way our tiniest most vulnerable humans find sleep normally.

I was told that new and expecting mothers don’t want to know that babies continue waking for a couple of years. I was told I was scaring them unnecessarily and that it was the equivalent of telling horror birth stories to a pregnant mama as she prepared to birth.

I strongly disagree.

Knowing and accepting what IS likely to happen as your baby grows and develops is not a horror story. No one knows how your baby will find sleep in this world but one thing is for sure, they will need you and that is not something you need to fear. Instead of fear, it gives room to mentally, physically and practically prepare. It takes away the element of surprise. It removes the angst of ‘shouldn’t they be sleeping better yet?’, ‘why does my baby still wake?’

A birthing mother doesn’t need to hear every horrific tale of every horrific thing that may or may not happen to her. That does nothing to help her towards her own journey. But it equally does not help to tell her that it will be easy, straight forward and you practically just sneeze and the baby falls out without pain/ discomfort.

A pregnant or new mother does not need to hear every detail of every form of sleep torture she may or may not face in the years ahead with her child. But she equally doesn’t need to sprint to some arbitrary finish line that someone has told her and think that her child’s night-time needs will magically cease and her sleep will return to that of pre-baby.

Let’s be real. Let’s be honest and let’s give new parents the very best chance to set themselves up with realistic expectations for the early time in their child’s life where they will be needed just as much at night as they are by day.

I know this may seem like a pipe dream right now, but all it takes is for voices to rise. Mothers and babies of the future deserve better than what is offered up in mainstream society today.

When we know better, we can do better and so, for all of those in the know, it’s our turn to share our voice, speak our knowledge and share with all we can the truths of normal infant and toddler sleep.

💙Enjoying reading Grubby Mummy articles? Join us on Facebook 💙