On the topic of assembling baby items in the Werner home, there’s been certain gear I’ve just handed over to my husband with a shrug and look that says, “Yeah, there’s no way I’m attempting this. You do it.”

Putting together our baby swing was one such chore. Another? Our Pack-n-Play. In the early weeks, Dean slept in a Pack-n-Play in our bedroom. When we moved him into the crib in his nursery around two months, that Pack-n-Play stayed there in our bedroom (becoming a lazy mom and dad’s second hamper for dirty clothes). With everything else on my mind (like nursing, rocking and cooing over my new son), I just didn’t have the mental capacity (or actual directions) to figure out how to take it apart myself.

With this parental product struggle in mind, I was thrilled to try out 4moms’ Breeze playard. As the name indicates, putting this thing together? It really IS a breeze! (I should know because I’ve assembled and disassembled it at least a half-dozen times already in the month we’ve had it!)

The Breeze goes from this ….

to this, in two minutes flat. (You can check out this video to get a better idea of how easy it is to put together). Once, I even set it up while holding Dean…impressive, I tell you! As you can see, this darling boy of mine is a pretty big fan :)

Did I mention I love the Breeze’s gender neutral look? Not to mention how well it’s made? It was cool to see the Breeze included in the giveaway last month for Ellen Degeneres’ annual Mother’s Day show! (Fellow mamas, how much would you love to be in that audience?!)

Speaking of love and mothers and giveaways, I’m excited to announce I’m giving away a Breeze to one of my readers (a $299 value!) Here’s how you can enter to win**:

• Like 4moms on Facebook (Doing so means you’ll be in the know about more giveaways for 4moms’ other awesome products … I’ll be talking about some of those in later posts, but trust me, this is worth it!)

• Leave a comment here on my blog telling me what’s been YOUR most frustrating piece of baby gear (or for those who or pregnant or trying to win a Breeze for a family member, what you think said item would be)

Believe me when I say you totally want to take the time to enter (save that extra dough for the diapers…, you’ll need it!) Good luck!

**Winner will be selected at random on Thursday, June 13. Entries will be accepted until noon of that day.

Update: The winner has been selected. Thanks for playing! 

Before I had you, Dean, one of the most common responses I heard from parents was what a marvelous thing it was for them to discover the world anew through the eyes of their children.

This month just so happens to be the month your mother can now echo that refrain. It’s not that you haven’t always been a curious child—you’ve been in tune with your surroundings from the day you were born. It’s just, within the past few weeks, I’ve picked up on that curiosity in new ways that continue to make me fall more and more in love with you.

I can remember an evening last week where we sat on the step outside the front porch. We were watching your daddy mow the yard and I’d given you a flower off our rhododendron bush that had exploded into the most vibrant shade of pink. As you peeled each petal off the stem, I could literally SEE the wheels turning in your head. Your little mind was so caught up in processing what this piece of nature was that you held clinched in your soggy fist. In turn, I sat there mesmerized, too. By you, of course.

A few days later, me now in tune with your desire to shake everything placed in front of you, I handed over a small container filled with bits of dried pasta. You were sitting in my lap as I shook it for you and then held your hands to help you mimic the motion. The peals of laughter that followed would have made a stranger in the room think that rotini was telling you some kind of inside joke, not just rattling around inside a plastic tub.

And so it goes these days, you finding joy in the most simple things. The ability to do so is one of the defining characteristics of childhood, I want you to know. (And someday, perhaps when you’re a parent yourself, you’ll realize this along with an overwhelming wave of nostalgia for the past). For me, it’s so beautiful to observe this evolving wonderment of yours. Yet it’s bittersweet knowing that at some point in your life—as it does for everyone—that sense of wonder will dull, maybe even fade away.

That day, however, is far, far off, so let’s not dwell on it, shall we? Until it comes, there is still SO much more for you to discover. Starting with your mama’s pantry and those cupboard drawers and … well, you’ll see.

I’ll let you find out for yourself, of course.

Each month I write a letter to my darling son. If you’d like to read more, check out the “Letters to Dean” category of the blog.

Me on my first birthday in 1983 B.P. (Before Pinterest)

As a kid, I remember loving my birthday parties. My mom baked a cake, often of the Duncan Hines variety, and my cousins came over bearing gifts. That’s it. Things were simple. There were no custom-made labels identifying anything served at the kitchen table. No goodie bags sent home with those who came. And the guest list? Family only, maybe a few friends once I reached grade school.

Growing up, this is what I knew a celebration to be. It’s why I now cringe when I see what the “modern” birthday party has become. Find them on Pinterest or find them on blogs, but suddenly we’re seeing birthday parties with an amount of excess that makes me think, “My God, not even my wedding was this elaborate.” It’s all a bit ridiculous isn’t it? So what I want to know is, how did we get here? How did we get to a point where “Pinterest stress” is seriously a THING?

Dean is only six months and already I feel some of this pressure. Pressure to throw a perfect birthday party for this precious little boy who won’t know or care if there’s a theme or a tablescape or a cake with fondant icing I paid a baker an exorbitant fee to create.

If and when I start to think this overabundance is necessary, I must remember to consciously check myself. Because I want to be a mother who takes a stand against the insanity that has encroached on our collective ability to entertain simply. Simply without guilt, I must add. (Let’s face it, dads aren’t behind this phenomenon are they? I’m confident men could care less if mason jars with expensive straws were waiting to be oohed and awed over by party guests.)

If you are someone whose idea of fun is staying up until 1 am affixing labels to guests’ water bottles, by all means continue being a slave to your glue gun. I have met a few of you over the years and I understand this is your creative outlet the same way photographing clients or writing a blog entry is mine.

It’s just I don’t have this “party maven” gene. (I don’t even OWN a glue gun, let alone any amount of colorful card stock that would necessitate its use.) And I’m pretty sure a lot of you lack this gene as well. But the Internet is fooling us into believing if our parties aren’t “Pinterest-worthy,” well, maybe we’re doing it wrong.

As a professional photographer, I feel an added responsibility to be real about this. Because I have a big, expensive camera and I know how to use it makes it that much easier for me to stress over putting together some lavish spread just so I can photograph it and submit it to one of the myriad party blogs fueling this trend.

Except, I have no plans of doing that. Not now. Not ever. Each year when October rolls around and we’re celebrating Dean’s birthday, it will be in the most low-key way possible. I’m talking paper plates (and yes, someday these might have Buzz Lightyear or dinosaurs on them), a cake I’ve made (likely from a box) and a small handful of people who mean the most to my son.

Who knows … maybe the money I save from years’ worth of birthdays celebrated sans favors and and all the other trappings can go toward a party when we we splurge on, say, a bouncy castle for Dean and his friends.

I hear that’s all the kids at the party are going to remember anyway.

 Sleep training is one of those topics—like breastfeeding, vaccinations and co-sleeping—that elicits a passionate response from a lot of moms and dads. While I understand it may not be for everyone, I wanted to share our story of why (and how) it worked for us along with a few thoughts on kids and sleep that I hope some fellow parent (or parent-to-be) will benefit from reading.

How Sleep — Dreaming of it, Losing it and Helping Your Child Find it — Can Consume Your Life as a New Mom

If there is ONE thing I underestimated about this life-changing ride called parenthood it’s how the idea of sleep — my own, Nick’s, Dean’s, our lack thereof — would come to dominate my life the way it has these past six months. When you have a baby, you know you’re in for sleepless nights. I wasn’t naive to this reality. I just couldn’t have imagined the way I would be OVERWHELMED with all the literature, attitudes and opinions out there on the topic of children and sleep. (This woman’s tongue-and-cheek essay on the subject sums it up pretty well.)

For us, the troubles started around the time Dean turned two months old. Nick and I were exhausted, my son was at the fussiest stage of infancy and I was convinced Dean was never going to sleep well. People were starting to ask us “Is he sleeping through the night yet?” Parental small talk that, to me, had become the most loaded of questions.

It’s SO ridiculous to admit now, but I began to feel like a failure as a parent because Dean had yet to be sleep trained. The one time I’d let him cry it out in his crib for 20 minutes (so I could make myself lunch), I felt as if I’d traumatized us both. I was deterred by books like Babywise (which, in my opinion, advocate sleep training your child too young with too little direction). I was obsessively reading the blogs of mothers whose infants slept like “dreams”. (Despite knowing better, I couldn’t stay away from them.) I’d even started rationalizing to friends and family that Dean was “a bad sleeper” to make myself feel better about things.

By three months, we’d entered a routine of my nursing Dean twice a night and occasionally popping out of bed to give him a pacifier, rock him or pat his bottom to get him back to sleep. Those once-a-night pop-ups started happening a lot more when he turned four months. Suddenly we were up five or six times a night. As he was starting to develop more mature, shorter sleep cycles, Dean couldn’t go back to sleep on his own. So it was up to us to finish the job for him every hour, on the hour.

After a particularly rough night two weeks ago, I told Nick enough was enough. It was time to try sleep training. He was far more reluctant to the concept but, with us both sleep-deprived zombies at work, it no longer felt optional. After reading this post from one of my favorite bloggers, I ordered the book The Sleepeasy Solution. I also had a long-distance friend of mine in New Hampshire (hi Kristen!) who sent me her copy of Richard Ferber’s book, promising me the method had worked for her kids, Dean was at a great age to try it and, oh yeah, wouldn’t it be nice to sleep again?

How it Works

Both books employ similar concepts: After establishing a bedtime routine, you put your child to bed awake. Once they start crying, you check on them at staged intervals (5, 10 then every 15 minutes). I’ve heard people “demonize” the crying out method as cruel and unusual punishment, but now I think those sentiments are coming from parents who’ve never actually read either of the books I’ve cited above. Because both texts do a wonderful job explaining how the process is parent-led (you don’t just leave your kid alone the entire night to cry) and, most importantly, describe in detail how crucial it is for children to learn to sleep on their own. Turns out, falling asleep is not a skill we’re born with but one that must be learned. Think of it this way, Ferber writes: You’re an adult who falls asleep with a pillow every night. But what happens when someone yanks the pillow out from under you? You wake up confused, unable to sleep without having your pillow back. This, essentially, is how babies feel when they wake up to find that the bottle, breast, pacifier or arms that rocked them to sleep are no longer there. (Makes sense, right? This concept really helped me to understand how important this process was as a milestone for my son.)

The first night we implemented the Sleepeasy method, Dean started crying the minute I tiptoed out of the nursery. It took him 35 minutes to stop. Was it hard? Absolutely. But with each night that passed, we started to see tremendous progress. And here we are, two weeks later, and Dean is now consistently sleeping STRAIGHT THROUGH THE NIGHT ON HIS OWN. It’s enough to make me want to run through hills and burst into song, Julie Andrews-Sound of Music-style.

While I know sleep training may not be for everyone—it’s obviously a very personal choice—in the end, for us, the experience was akin to pulling off a Band-Aid. We’d worried so much about it, putting up with the frustrations (sleep deprivation, crankiness, fear of bedtime) its delay brought us. Then, when we actually went through with it, it was FAR less painful than we thought it would be.

I only wish I could go back in time four months and calm the fears of the mother who worried incessantly that her infant son was never going to sleep through the night. This is the one issue as a parent I have regrets over, which is why I’ve felt so passionately about writing in such detail about it here.

What I Want Other New Moms to Know

If I could sit down with a new mom (hiring her a babysitter to give us the luxury of an hour together over cups of tea), sleep would be the No. 1 topic of discussion. I don’t want any new mom to unnecessarily go through the weeks of frustration (and tears!) that I did. Here’s what I would want her to walk away from the conversation remembering — and if you happen to be that young mom reading this right now (or the friend of one), here is what I’d tell you too:

• Don’t worry about sleep training until your baby is at least four months old: Most experts seem to agree that, before the four month mark, babies really do need the comfort of their parents when they’re crying (day or night). I know it’s the choice of parents on when to sleep train (if they choose to do it). Some will decide to do it before four months, but I’m positive their experience will be filled with a LOT more tears (from both them and the child) than if they’d waited a few more months. Babies won’t make any sleep associations (ie, needing to be rocked or given a bottle to fall asleep) before four to five months. So parents of newborns, you do whatever you need to do to get your baby to sleep. And enjoy that time together because it’s a stage that passes so quickly. I regret the time I wasted worrying about Dean’s sleep habits as an infant and wish I would have better enjoyed those hours we spent in the rocking chair together.

• If you do sleep train, be consistent: This is where sleep training can get you. You and your partner REALLY have to follow the method to a T. At one point after Dean had been crying for 20 minutes, Nick looked at me and said, “Can’t I just give him his pacifier?” My response? “N-O.” There’s no better way for you to fail at sleep training (and give the method a bad rap) than by being inconsistent. As the authors of both books write, if you give your kid inconsistent or mixed messages (sometimes helping him to sleep, sometimes not), he’s going to sleep less and cry MORE. Don’t do it!

• If it doesn’t work for your family this time, consider trying again in a few weeks: I’ve come to learn this way of thinking applies to most everything with parenting. Your child hates solids? Try again in a week. Your child isn’t loving to sleep unswaddled? Try again in a week. Can’t get him or her out of the bed you’re sharing? Try again in a week. It’s been amazing to me to see how many times I’ve wanted to scream in frustration over some parenting roadblock, only to let it go, give it a try a short time later, and then think, “Geesh, why did I get so worked up over this?” My guess is sleep training might fall under this sliding scale of developmental changes too.

If you’ve read through this entry in its entirety, bless your heart. If you want to tell me your own thoughts about sleep training (if it worked for you, if it didn’t work for you, whatever the case may be), I’d welcome the comments. And if you want to pass this essay along to a bleary-eyed, sleep-deprived new mother who might be just as confused and frustrated by her child’s inability to sleep as I was, even better. Tell her I said “Things will get better“. Because, truly, they will and do.

Oh my darling boy … I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have to write anything more in this month’s letter than “Dear Dean, you learned to cuddle your mama this month, making her heart explode every morning as she felt your arms embrace her. The End,” and that would suffice. Because truly, the way you now curl into me after you nurse in the morning, me resting my chin on your fuzzy little head and dreaming about our future together, is the best 15 minutes of my day.

Oh but how that would leave out all the other moments that have made this month quite possibly your most magical yet!

Let’s start with your interest in food. We started solids with you this month and my GOODNESS it’s been so fun! If there is one thing you’re learning about your mama, it’s that she loves to cook. Her favorite place in the house is the kitchen, did you know that? My hope is that one of your most vivid memories of me as you grow is seeing me there, making food for us in a gesture of my love for our family. Our evenings right now are you in dad’s arms in the kitchen, a wooden spoon between your drooly gums, as the two of us talk about our day and I flip the chicken in the skillet or stir the pasta that’s bubbling on the stove. I so very much want you to love food the way I do, which is why the act of feeding you the fruits and vegetables you’ve been trying — pureed sweet potatoes and pears and squash — is so very important to me.

With each day that passes your independence and personality shine through more and more. You now know when it’s time for your bottle, reaching for it and grunting as you try to feed yourself. You blow raspberries in frustration when you can’t quite reach the toy in front of you. Your whole face lights up when Daisy enters the room and, trying to grab her ears, you cackle with laughter. Speaking of laughter, we discovered your ticklish spots this month. A pinch of the knees and thighs and oh boy, you explode with the most glorious belly laugh. It’s my favorite new sound.

Finally, one of the responsibilities of being a parent is knowing that sometimes, well … sometimes you have to tackle something hard because you know it’s the right thing to do. Which is how your dad and I decided to sleep train you this month. It wasn’t your fault you’d started keeping us up half the night, waking every hour or so in that crib of yours. Developmentally, you were sleeping less like an infant and more like a baby. But because you didn’t know how to fall asleep on your own — it was up to us to show you how. As hard as it was to see you frustrated and crying big, crocodile tears through the process, it’s amazing to see how, in just two short weeks, you’ve become a sleeping champ. When you wake now, you stir and roll right back over. You’ve even learned how to put that pacifier of yours back in your mouth yourself! Of all the ways this month has been your best yet, they can be packaged up in this one amazing feat. A feat that has given your parents their nights back. So thank you sweetheart … in the end, it turns out it all was easier for you to do than the worrying about it was for us.

Each month I write a letter to my darling son. If you’d like to read more, check out the “Letters to Dean” category of the blog.