Self Soothing for the Spartan Baby

I fondly remember the anecdote/historical fact from High School World History (thank you, Mr. Wallace) that in Sparta, mothers would expose their newborn children to the elements, and if they fought off the wolves with their bare hands, they would be considered fit enough to be Spartan. I may have forgotten the exact truth details, but, at the very least, my interpretation of it is still the same. Clearly, they wanted strong children who would need neither binky nor lovey to comfort them. They wanted the epitome of self-soothers.

When I get dressed, I place an awake Veronica in the middle of my very comfortable, cloud-esque bed, replete with warm, soft comforter. She enjoys the ceiling fan action. She often falls fast asleep.

I contrast this falling "fast asleep" to what happens when we put her in her pack-n-play bassinet or crib. The pack-n-play directions strongly cautioned me not to place a sheet in there lest it wrangle loose and suffocate the child. I did anyway, but the fact I still think about my decision tells me I'm a wee bit nervous. My in-laws' pack-n-play, purchased 7 years ago for their other granddaughter, has a noticeably softer mattress. Mine features a comfortless slab. And the crib! The mattress is firm. The sheet is tight, and there is neither pillow nor blanket in the crib, per "experts'" advice.

Next, the books tell me to lay her down when she seems tired in order to learn to "Self Soothe." Sounds like a recipe for success.

On my bed, she puts a thumb in her mouth and is off to slumber. In her crib, she yanks at her ear, gnaws at her fist, and complains to the mobile...and then collapses into sleep.

The rational, un-paranoid side of me rolls her eyes, remembering that somehow we all got here without spartan cribs. Then the new mom voice, however, whispers to me, "except for those babies that did not get here, you do not want your baby to be one of those, do you?" Then I quickly snatch the soft blanket from Veronica's innocent little hands.

It reminds me of Sparta- teaching my child to self-soothe in the cold, heartless world. Comfort is a sign of weakness! Suck it up, babe. Life ain't no bed of roses! Better you learn now, 'cause by time you're two, we'll have you sleeping on the concrete of the back yard patio with a canteen.

I wonder if thousands of years from now, when babies safely sleep suspended in environmentally controlled bubbles, if world history teachers will tell stories about 21st century Americans who made their children sleep on their backs on cold, hard surfaces, and the students will gasp in horror.

Mary Ellen

My Aunt Barb, Mary Ellen's mother, is fond of saying "We come from good stock." It brings a smile to my face even in the saddest of moments.

Today, Saturday May 21st is my cousin's memorial in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and I can't be there. It pains me because there is no where else in the world I'd rather be.

I love Mary Ellen so deeply, as do so many other people. Living across the country from her, I didn't get to see her daily, or even yearly. I didn't get to know her as well as either of us would have liked. I dearly treasure the moments we had together.

I admired Mary Ellen. I remember visiting her when I was 11 years old as she was working on her master's degree. She was a role model, intelligent, beautiful, and vibrant, someone whom I could look up to. She exuded a sense that everything was going to be ok, that life was not only worth living, but worth celebrating. I was proud of her then, as I'm proud of her now.

I always remember Mary Ellen smiling, which is not to say that she didn't struggle, but that I associate her with positivity and sincerity. I remember the way she danced at my wedding, the joy she took in the beauty of her garden, the love with which she spoke about her mother, the fun and laughs we had while sharing good food and even better conversation, her generosity in which she opened her heart and home to friends and family,...I remember so much that inspires me to be better, more forgiving, more accepting, and happier.

After my mother's funeral, she hosted a lunch in her honor. I will never forget the warmth and love I felt. It was the same warmth and love I felt emanating from her whenever we were together. Sitting in her house that day, I felt comforted. I felt accepted. I felt surrounded by peace.

She worked hard to cultivate this peace in her life and to share it with the world. My Aunt Barb told me that she was spiritually ready to leave this life, but I certainly wasn't ready for her to do so. I understand that this is my challenge to face, to accept.

In the meantime, as my heart heals, all I can say is Mary Ellen is a prime example of "coming from good stock," and I am so very proud and grateful to share it with her. I'll miss her forever, and I'll always keep her memory close to me.