The Baby Expert: My Way or the Highway

Ever since my parents came to visit us about three weeks ago, my philosophical approach of “my way or the highway,” for dealing with Caitlyn has been indefinitely put on hold.

While she used to be pretty good about feeding herself and going to bed, Caitlyn has now gotten quite lazy and will now whine until the wife feeds her. She also refuses to sleep at night now unless the wife lies down with her until she falls asleep. Both of these have left me, to say the least, a bit displeased.

Whenever I bring this up, the wife will tell me to take care of things. Taking care of things in my book involves letting Caitlyn sit in her seat until she decides to feed herself and dropping her off in her bed and promptly leaving after reading a goodnight story. Unfortunately, my tactic also involves prolonged periods of crying and screaming, both of which are frowned upon by the wife and Grandma.

When I first became a parent, I vowed that I would not be like my mom and dad. If you ask me about my childhood, the first thing that pops to my mind is all the beatings I used to receive. And the thing is, I don’t even remember being that bad of a kid. I’m sure most kids got a few licks here and there growing up. After all, if you spare the rod, you spoil the child, right? But there’s a difference between receiving a few light taps on your hand and having your bottom lit up like the Fourth of July where you end up with welts and bruises all over your arms and legs.

My parents’ favorite instrument for dishing out punishment was this feather duster whose handle was made of bamboo. I swear I despised that feather duster as a kid. I remember trying several times to break the darn thing, but never having enough strength to carry out the task. The most I could do was pluck out the feathers from it and be satisfied with that. In order to not let the neighbors know what was going on, my parents would turn on the radio nice and loud so no one would hear my screams and cries as I ran through the house trying to escape from their clutches.

I’m not saying that my parents are horrible people, in fact, they are very lovely, generous people, but their method of disciplining was definitely misguided and I’m sure has affected who I am today. That is why I refuse to hit my child. I know what it’s like and I know how it’s affected my relationship with my parents. That feeling will never go away, no matter how much I want to forgive or forget.

However, my mom commented the other day how similarly I treat Caitlyn like she used to treat me. Excuse me? I don’t see a feather duster in my hand ready to strike my child. But the more I think about it, maybe I am acting a bit like my parents. While I am not hitting Caitlyn, maybe trying to force her to do what I want isn’t the best way. I don’t yell at my child and I am very patient when it comes to dealing with her, but could I be causing a rift in our relationship by being so demanding and wanting things done my way?

I just think back to all the Super Nanny episodes I’ve watched. In the case of a child not wanting to go to sleep, Super Nanny’s advice was always to let the child cry it out, and if they happened to leave their bed, to put them back in. Even if you had to do this 100 times, you kept at it to let the child know you meant business. Of course, this was all done in a calm and patient manner. Eventually, the child would get the picture and do what was asked of them because they knew they had no other choice.

That’s the same philosophy I’ve tried to use with Caitlyn. I want her to know I mean business. I think that’s partly why she’s so much better behaved when it’s just me and her. She knows I won’t cave in to her demands. But when the wife’s there and now Grandma, it’s difficult for me to maintain this persona and it’s beginning to make me question the way I do things.

As my mom likes to say, is it so wrong to feed Caitlyn every now and then? Is it so bad for the wife to lie with Caitlyn until she falls asleep? Is it so wrong to give Caitlyn what she wants? Isn’t it better than letting her cry and get upset?

I seriously don’t know. But maybe I shouldn’t have such a stranglehold on things. Maybe it’s OK to let go sometimes. Just sometimes. And maybe just until Grandma leaves town.