Latest Blog Posts

Robert and the Ferber Method

December 21, 2006 at 3:00pm By: Mr. Wilson Posted in 625 Elm Street

The Missus and I have made a mistake. We have let Robert control us at night. If he cries, we get up and feed him or hold him. Great for Robbie, not so great for mom and dad.

We put up with it because Robert is such a great kid in pretty much every other respect. He is cute. He is smart. He is well-behaved. He is patient. He is adaptable. We let him off the hook at night because “he is so good to us in every other way.” (By the way, I am knocking on wood furiously as I type this.)

But you know what? He is 7 months old. He is capable of sleeping through the night (he does it every now and then), so he needs to sleep through the night. And not just for mom and dad’s sake. We owe it to Robert to help him reach his full potential.

On Tuesday The Missus and I finally put our foot down. We decided to apply the Ferber method beginning that night. We had used it off-and-on before then, but that was the problem; we didn’t use it consistently, so we weren’t really using it at all. I gave Robert a lecture about our plan and why we were doing it. He did his best to listen, and he apparently took the speech to heart. He slept through the night on Tuesday. That was easy.

I was ready to go again last night, and this time Robert woke up at midnight. I let him cry for a while to see if he would put himself back to sleep. No luck, so I went in to comfort him. I wasn’t planning to pick him up, but his diaper was really full, so I changed him. I set him back in his crib, rubbed his chest and head, and walked out. He responded by screaming bloody murder.

Well, ok, I knew that was coming. I let him cry, and he was only violently pissed off for 30 seconds or so. After that it was just regular crying. I waited ten minutes before going back in. I rubbed his chest and head again, I offered a calming “shhhhh” or two, and I left. He followed with another round of pissed off crying. Within ten minutes the crying was down to an occasional soft whimper, and then ... silence. He was out. The whole thing had only taken 30 minutes. Not bad.

I don’t enjoy listening to Robert cry, and I especially don’t enjoy it when I’m the cause. But boy, will it ever be worth it to get over this hump and have him sleep through the night every night. Supposedly the Ferber method often works within a week. We’ll see about that.

As for Robert, he was none the worse for wear this morning. When his mom went to get him up at 6:45, he was passed out on his stomach in the corner of his crib. He had slept from 8:00pm until 6:45am, with just that little 30 minute hiccup in the middle. Once he rubbed the sleep from his eyes he was bright-eyed and ready to go. Just as all the experts have told us—experts being moms who have been there, done that, of course—despite the temporary fuss, he’ll be just fine.

I’m an Uncle (Again)!

December 15, 2006 at 3:15am By: Mr. Wilson Posted in 625 Elm Street

Welcome to the world, Samuel Michael! Little Sammy was born a plump 9.5 pounds at 5:40 tonight. See ya tomorrow, Sam!


December 14, 2006 at 6:30pm By: Mr. Wilson Posted in 625 Elm Street

I don’t usually do this sort of thing, but beerorkid tagged me and, well, he’s a good friend of Lincolnite, so what the heck. Here’s the game: I have to tell you six things you may not know about me. Here we go…

  1. My middle name is Curtis, after my uncle who died shortly after he was born. According to my grandma the doctor screwed up and baby Curtis was strangled by the umbilical cord. Today he probably would have lived, but he would have been severely handicapped. Several months ago The Missus and I acquired my grandma’s piano. Come to find out, my grandpa bought her the piano as therapy after Curtis died.
  2. Although most people perceived me as a goody-goody in high school, I could cause a bit of trouble now and then. I even had two run-ins with the police, both of which I talked my way out of, and once I was chased by a man with a shotgun. My crimes in each case? TP’ing, trespassing, and setting off a firework. Nothing to keep me from the presidency. Stupid teenagers.
  3. Back in the day I was known as Dr. Rudy—a takeoff of Dr. Ruth—for my ability to offer counseling and relationship advice to my friends. My parents gave me the nickname Spud for my love of potatoes.
  4. I have all sorts of physical weirdnesses, mostly the result of a particular genetic anomaly shared in 150+ forms by as much as .07% of the population. To name two, I have no tear ducts and two toes on each foot are webbed. There are lots more. On the plus side, I have been blessed with a very high tolerance for pain. I even sat through an oral surgical procedure during which a portion of my mouth wasn’t fully deadened.
  5. Alcohol and caffeine are the only recreational drugs I have used, though I support a person’s right to drink, inhale, or inject anything he wants into his own body. I have only been drunk once, the night of my bachelor party. Nobody believes me, but I remember the entire evening. I spent much of the following morning puking. My body has rejected alcohol ever since that day; I get nauseous before I even take a sip. I consider that a blessing.
  6. If I ever face the death penalty, my last meal will be: meatloaf; mashed potatoes with meatloaf gravy; green bean casserole; red (cinnamon) pickles; homemade rolls with butter; chocolate layer dessert (something like this); and milk (1%).

I suppose I have to tag a few people. Mr. T, DMB, you’re up. I’ll pick on Neal, too, but only because I’m hoping for cartoons depicting his six items. And you know what? I’m going to tag Gary and Sue as well. They mentioned “that Lincolnite guy” on the air one time, so I know they check in now and then.

A Smattering of Updates from 625 Elm Street

December 12, 2006 at 1:30pm By: Mr. Wilson Posted in 625 Elm Street

It’s a busy busy time of year at 625 Elm Street. Here are some miscellaneous updates:

The Missus makes excellent desserts throughout the year, but the holidays are especially fruitful for the sugar queen. I swear, one of these days she is going to have to open her own shop. I’m not just saying that; she would love to bake for a living, and, though I’m not an unbiased observer, I have to think her odds of success are pretty darn high. For example, one of her desserts earned the name FGBs after a friend exclaimed “These are [darn] good brownies!” upon eating one for the first time.

Robbie is at an adorable age right now. He will be seven months old on Saturday. He is sitting up very well, but his real favorite activities are standing and walking. (Yes, walking!) Give him a finger from each hand to hold onto, and he’s happy as a clam as he meanders around the room. He is on the verge of a crawling breakthrough, so we need to go on a childproofing overhaul.

This week we will hit an important milestone with Robbie: he will have been with us for six months. That means that our adoption agency can give the appropriate paperwork to our attorney, who can then file with the courts for finalization. We hope to get a court date in late January.

In other baby-related news, I just received an e-mail from my sister. She is going to go to the hospital on Thursday to have her water broken. My nephew Sam (after his great grandfather) should be here by Thursday night.


December 11, 2006 at 1:30pm By: Mr. Wilson Posted in 625 Elm Street

I sure hope the fact that the bus drove right by me without stopping this morning isn’t a harbinger of things to come for the rest of the day. If I would have had a raw egg, I would have chucked it at the side of the bus as it drove by. Grrrr.

The Curse of the Infected Nose

December 8, 2006 at 1:25pm By: Mr. Wilson Posted in 625 Elm Street

Poor Robert. The kid tries to be cute and bubbly and happy, but it sure is tough when you have a nose infection. (Not a sinus infection, according to the doc.) He is all plugged up, and his drainage causes a terrible sounding cough, the kind that makes you wince in empathy. He can’t sleep very well when lying flat, so I have spent portions of a few nights this week sleeping with him and propping him up. Last night he made it through most of the night in his swing. I celebrated not having to get up by sleeping terribly and having bizarre dreams.

I hope his weekend goes better for him. The weather is supposed to be nice, so maybe getting outside for a walk or two will help. He has had a cold or illness of some sort for several weeks in a row. I know that’s relatively normal for a baby’s first winter, but it sure would be nice to give him a couple days of perfect health here and there.

Third Booth on the Right

December 7, 2006 at 1:30pm By: Mr. Wilson Posted in 625 Elm Street

It is a little difficult for me to believe, but it was ten years ago that I first asked a girl on a date. She said yes, and here we are ten years later with a kid, a dog, and a house. As we celebrated last night with a meal at Village Inn, where it all began in the third booth on the right, we talked about how we got there. Here’s how it happened.


The Blogs

Syndication icon