Infant specialist Magda Gerber encouraged parents and caregivers to embrace this time together with honesty. Most of us have the strong temptation to distract a crying child with games, songs, or toys, to discount her feelings by telling her it’s okay and she shouldn’t cry. But to ensure healthy emotional development, a child’s feelings of fear and loss during separation need to be expressed and heard, not erased or invalidated.

Accepting this worthy challenge to allow babies their feelings has the added benefit of presenting  a wonderful opportunity for intimacy and bonding. When a child is supported to share his pain, his trust deepens.

I was reminded of this subject when a family in Mexico I correspond with asked how to help their 26 month old deal with a vacationing nanny…

Janet,

Thanks for your time.

My wife and I are very worried. Mateo’s nanny will not be at home for 6 weeks, and we do not know how to help him to manage the separation.

Today was his first day without the old nanny, and he has been very irritated. We tried to make the change less strong for him. We had our nanny stay for a week with the new nanny so that he could familiarize. Also we prepared him a few days before his nanny would go.

Could you help us?!

 Regards, 
Mario and Adriana

Hi Mario and Adriana,

Do you know this stanza from the poem by Lord Tennyson? (Don’t know if it translates!)

I hold it true, whate’er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

I understand how hard it is to see your boy uncomfortable, but loving someone means missing that person when she’s gone, whether it’s temporary or forever. You’ve done everything right. Now, rather than try to make the change “less strong for him”, encourage him to express his feelings of loss completely. He’s attached to his nanny and that is a wonderful thing. All you can really do is support and acknowledge his feelings. Ask the new caregiver to do that, too. “You must miss Nanny so much. She’s gone for a while, but she’ll be back.” “You were always comfortable with Nanny because she knew you so well. It’s hard to get used to someone new.”

Keep talking about it. Listen to his discomfort and complaints. Allow him to cry. Encourage it. Hold him in your arms and let him feel all his feelings. It may be rough for you, but it will be very good for him, because he will then be able to move on and accept the new situation.

Best regards,
Janet

I share much more on this subject in Good Grief – When Babies Need To Cry

I recently read an exceptionally inspiring account of a mom’s “small but powerful moment” of realization while her toddler daughter was crying. It was written by parent educator, infant/toddler playgroup facilitator and family advocate Christine Rupp, and she graciously allowed me to share it here …

Sitting in my college psychology class, I remember hearing the phrase “to hold another’s thought” as a therapeutic tool; the simple act of really hearing someone’s story, emotions, beliefs.  It’s not about our response, and certainly not about us giving advice or making it better.  It’s simply about allowing the feelings to be expressed and held by another human being, and therefore validated. 

I loved that concept then and was recently reminded of it in regard to our children’s emotions.  As the sweet, easy-going babies I met last spring when we opened have grown into toddlers, I’ve marveled with their parents about the emergence of emotions, opinions, desires and self-will.  It’s the natural progression of development, but it can take us by surprise and certainly makes parenting more complex.

I’ve recently taken to the work of infant specialist Magda Gerber and her approach to infants and young children that fully respects their developmental skills and emotions, being conscious about embracing where children are at and not hurrying them into the next skill or past a negative emotion.  In her book, Your Self Confident Baby, Gerber writes about how uncomfortable adults seem to be with a crying child.  We shake a toy, tell them they are OK, distract them from their emotion in an attempt to end the sadness.  Not that we shouldn’t comfort our children, but maybe we can rethink these everyday experiences to allow our children the space and peace to feel their feelings. 

After Laurellai spent last Saturday with Daddy, I arrived home from work in the evening so that Doug could quickly scoot out for errands.  As Laurellai watched Daddy’s car pull away she was sobbing, “I miss Daddy . . . I want Daddy”.  Usually I would pick her up, bring her to her toys, pull her into play and ask her about her day, but this time “holding another’s thought” surfaced.  I stayed where I was and let her cry at the door.  After a minute she walked over to me in tears.  I picked her up and said, “you’re sad Daddy left” as I hugged her.  I didn’t try to distract her or make her feel better by explaining that he’d be back soon.  I just let her cry.  For those two minutes I had this unfamiliar sense of just being totally in the moment with her. It  was probably the most genuine moment we have ever shared.  Soon enough she asked me to read a book and the moment had passed.        

I was reading a post today by Janet Lansbury about the agonizing process of ditching the pacifier.  She recommends a quick, simple experience involving your child, like gathering them into a bag and disposing of them.   She states:  ”This will be far easier than you think, but she may well have tears and ‘grieving’ of some kind. Allow her to. In fact, encourage it! Don’t distract her out of her feelings. She needs to express them.”  Interesting thought, crying when you’re sad is OK, even good for the soul and let’s be at peace with it. 

Christine Rupp, MS, CCLS, is the owner and designer of Playmakers Family Enrichment Center in Rowley, MA, an educational center for children and their parents whose mission is “to inspire the joy of natural play in the lives of young children.” Check out her wonderful programs and blog!

Dear Janet,

I was wondering if you could give me some advice on one thing.

We have a wonderful six-month old boy, who we are trying to raise according to Emmi Pikler and Magda Gerber’s thoughts. Ever since he was really small he would lie happily on the floor while we were nearby if he needed us. He is really relaxed and can engage in various activities on the floor for a really long time. But the nights are what trouble us. He used to be a great sleeper, probably not really our doing, but he would fall asleep all alone, and only woke up for quick feeds, then went straight back to dreamland. About two months ago something changed (and honestly we could not think of a reason), and he has had troublesome nights ever since. He is hard to wind down, but now it is more than that. He is *very* upset if we leave him in his bed in the evening and will not fall asleep unless we are talking to him, sitting right next to his cot. We have tried to decrease our presence gradually, but it does not work – he starts screaming. And, when he awakens in the middle of the night, he needs us to go sit there and talk to him. Sometimes he does it over and over for a very long time. I am really worried, because after a night like this he is obviously very tired. And then there are nights when he sleeps right through without a stir.

I would be grateful for any advice,
Anna

Dear Anna,

Congratulations, it looks like your child has successfully mastered one of the important developmental skills of becoming a successful, autonomous sleeper — he is capable of falling asleep on his own. Now that you have observed this and experienced this, how do you hold on to it during all of the changes that will come along and challenge this innate ability?

At six months of age your child is now in the second stage of infancy. And at this stage it is quite common to see a disruption in sleep patterns. The first thing you will want to address is the “when” of sleep by making sure bed time is adjusted to fit the needs of a six-month-old. Whereas the newborn generally goes to sleep between 7:00 p.m. and 8:00 p.m. by six months that time becomes closer to 6:00 p.m. and possibly as early as 5:30. The window of sleep for the 6-10 month old child is 6:00-6:30 p.m. to 6:30-7:00 a.m.

The biggest issue in the discipline of sleep is “how” sleep is done in your home. Since I consider sleep to be a health and safety issue, it is best that the parents are in charge of this realm. Now that your child is more aware of your role in his life and has a complete understanding of who handles all of the complaints in his world, he may start to develop his own opinion as to how HE wants sleep to be done.  His current opinion is that he wants you to stay in the room, talk to him, and watch him fall asleep. He wants what all of our children want at one time or another, and over and over again. He wants you to fix it for him. And since you are well versed in the RIE philosophy, you already know that the more we do for them, the less they are able to do for themselves. Sleep is no different.

I can see that you have tried to ease yourself out of this picture, and when you do so he cries. The cry is what I help parents with the most when it comes to sleep. Struggle (crying) is inherent in ALL development. Our children will cry in their struggles with gross motor development and fine motor development. In learning to walk they will fall down and cry. They might even throw stacking cups across the room in frustration and cry. They will try to communicate with us verbally and throw a fit when we don’t understand them. The young child’s brain is miraculously designed to not only handle these disturbances but actually expand due to these disturbances. 

It is okay to let your child struggle in his efforts to fall asleep and return to sleep. He is already doing it in all areas of development, and he can handle it around sleep as well. And to do this the parent must distinguish between struggling and suffering. Struggling we let happen. When our child is suffering, we show up with love, compassion, empathy and reassurance. Whether our child is 4 months, 4 years or 40 years old…we will always attend to suffering. We attend to it… we don’t fix it for them.

Talk to your son. Tell him how sleep will be. Tell him that you will sit with him and then you will leave the room for him to fall asleep.

Acknowledge: I hear you crying.                                                         

Empathize: This is hard. I know you want me to stay.

Reassure: I am near. You can do it. I will come if you need me.

The separation anxiety your child may be feeling around sleep can be the same that the infant feels in the waking hours. And in RIE we are honest, “I am going into the other room now. I’ll be back.” And we leave with confidence, knowing that we can all have the necessary feelings associated with separation. And it is followed by the satisfying feelings of a warm reunion. We come to them…we are present…and then we go. Over and over again, this is the pattern. And when we can bookend the separation with what Magda Gerber called “100% Wants Nothing Quality Time”, this creates the best possible preparation for separation and a reunion worth waiting for.

With warm regards,                                                                       

Eileen Henry, RIE Associate
Compassionate Sleep Solutions™                                                                                       http://www.eileensclasses.com                                                                                                                                      303.953.0203                                                                                      

Good news… Eileen has offered to advise others with sleep issues here, too. Eileen, thanks!

Anna is sharing her RIE parenting journey here: Every Moment Is Right

Hi Janet,

I am just wondering if you have any advice on how I can get my 8 month old baby to play independently.  I have been following the Dr. Sears Attachment Parenting philosophy pretty rigidly since James was born and to my dismay, he is now super clingy, whiny, wakes up every 2 hours at night to nurse, etc.  I am starting to re-think my parenting philosophy and reading your blog has really opened my eyes to the fact that I need to stop carrying him around and just let him play.  The problem is that every time I leave him, he cries.  He literally needs to be touching me to be happy.  Even if I am sitting across the room from him, he will not just sit there and play.  He always crawls over to me crying because he wants me to entertain him and play with him.  Should I just leave him in the room and let him cry? Will he eventually stop crying and start playing on his own?  I’m just so at a loss.  I feel like such a failure.  I just wish my baby would be happy!  Thanks for any advice. 

Regards, Sarah                                             

Hi Sarah, 

First of all, you are most DEFINITELY not a failure! And, at 8 months of age your boy is very adaptable. Babies get used to whatever we do with them and will naturally want to continue those practices, but we can also make changes anytime. The best way to make a change is to first be certain of what you are doing (committed to changing, whatever it is). Then be very honest with your boy, and support him to transition. 

It sounds like there are two issues you want to work on: better sleep and more independent play time. They actually overlap because the more restfully your baby sleeps, the more energy he will have to play. The more freedom he has to move his body during the day, the more exercise he gets, the better he will sleep.  Tired babies have a harder time coping, period. (Something we can all relate to!) 

I don’t know how committed you are to co-sleeping, but our presence can wake an older infant up sometimes, especially if he is used to being fed every time he wakes. If you plan to continue co-sleeping, I would try doing less when he wakes up — just stroke him gently and tell him to go back to sleep. (If you and your doctor believe he still needs a nighttime feeding, then you might feed him once, maybe the first time he wakes.) 

Tell him what you will do (or not do) the day before you decide to change the pattern. ”Tonight, if you wake up, we won’t be nursing. I want you to go right back to sleep.”  If he cries in the night you can even acknowledge,” I know we used to nurse in the night, but I want you to get a better sleep,” or something like that… (For more about sleep please see: Sleep On This, and Back To Sleep.) 

During playtime, acknowledge the changes the same way. Don’t leave him for long in the beginning. And if you leave him, even for a moment, make sure he is in a safe, securely enclosed play space. 

Sit on the floor with James in his play area. Since he is crawling, you can allow him to be the one to separate, to move away from you.  If he starts to cry, move close to him and say, “I hear you’re upset. I used to carry you more. Now I’m allowing you to move on your own.” You might want to stroke him soothingly as you talk to him.  Let him deal with it for longer and longer periods of time before you pick him up.  Acknowledge any frustration. Pay attention to him, but don’t coax or entertain him to prolong his playtime. If he continues to cry just say, “Okay, you still seem upset, I’m going to pick you up.” Hold him on your lap on the floor to give him a break. If he crawls to you on the floor, let him stay on your lap, but don’t entertain him or carry him all around and make it exciting!  

The most important thing is to know you are giving him something very, VERY positive! And you’re just helping him adjust. He will eventually ADORE his playtime. Don’t feel guilty or unsure. That can make it harder for him, make him more uneasy. Every recent child development study corroborates the importance of infant play and exploration. 

For more details and a short video that demonstrates an infant reaping the benefits of independent play, please see: Baby, Interrupted – 7 Ways To Build Your Child’s Focus And Attention Span and Infant Play – Great Minds At Work.   

Generally, changes are much easier for our babies than we think they will be, once we commit. So go easy on yourself and take good care. Please keep me posted!

 All the best, Janet                

(This post is in no way meant as an ”attack” on Attachment Parenting.  In fact, I welcome any commentary from the Attachment Parenting perspective on Sarah’s issues!)

One of the challenges of respectful parenting is remembering to readjust our point-of-view and consider our child’s. Jackson’s mom realized that in her struggle to cope with the move herself, she had been denying his negative feelings. I encouraged her to switch gears and acknowledge Jackson’s worries, invite him to express his grief and loss as much as possible. After all, much of what he has known his whole life will disappear. 

I am a non-confrontational person and I can certainly relate to tippy-toeing around issues that might upset a child. But I’ve learned that skirting the truth can leave children holding a sack of bad feelings. Harder to bear than the actual emotions is the child’s sense that he is wrong to have his feelings because the well-intentioned parent has cheered them away, shushed, fixed or otherwise denied them. 

Infants and toddlers thrive on routine. Whether we are asking them to move, take a trip, start daycare or preschool, stay in the care of someone new, give up a habit of pacifiers or bottles, or move from our bed to a bed of their own, our children need our sensitivity and respect. They need an honest, direct approach to change, and an open-armed acceptance of their feelings about the changes. 

Here are 3 steps that help ease infant and toddler transitions: 

Be ready and sure. The first step to any change is a parent’s conviction. Perhaps our toddler is not functioning well from night-waking and neither are we, so we decide to make a new sleep plan. We may have waivered for months, but finally both parents have had enough.  Certain about the change ourselves, we can project that certainty for our child and give her the united front of conviction she needs. 

Helping our child change habits is usually much easier than we imagine it will be, once we are sure that the change is best for all concerned.  But if we (our child’s leaders) are tentative, uneasy or uncertain, it is much more difficult for the child to transition comfortably. Children can ‘read’ us a mile away. 

Prepare. It helps both the parent and the child when we talk honestly about an impending change. The more detail we give, the more included the child feels in the plans, and the more he can anticipate and predict what will happen. Children can get excited about a ride on an airplane if we tell them what to expect or show them a book. Toddlers can even look forward to disposing of their bottles or pacifiers if we allow them to choose how they will do it. “In a few days we will put the pacifiers away. Would you like to put them away in the box or the paper bag?” 

I understand parents saying that fairies came to take away the bottles (and I do believe in fairies!), but I believe in honesty for these important transitions. Telling our child the truth might feel scary to us, but it gives him a little more control, and will ultimately feel more ‘right’ for everyone. 

Even with an infant, honest preparation eases a change. He may not understand all we say, but he will surely sense our intention: “Tomorrow you will meet Marina. She is someone new. Marina will come to take care of you sometimes.” 

Bring it on and acknowledge.  Once we have committed to the change and followed through, all that is left to do is acknowledge whatever reactions and feelings our child has. Acknowledge that he misses his pacifier, his old nanny, the way we used to pick him up 3 or 4 times in the middle of the night. Acknowledge that he doesn’t want to go to daycare, or to school, or on the vacation, but that he must. Encourage him to express any feelings of grief, loss, anger. Hold strong, but don’t try to talk your child out of his feelings. If you welcome them, they will pass more quickly, and your mission will be accomplished, your relationship of trust intact.

I highly recommend reading this inspiring story by Ania at Every Moment Is Right: Dealing With Change

If you had asked me before that day whether I respected her, I would have quickly answered “Yes, of course!” But I would have been lying (misunderstanding the question, anyway). What I observed in that parenting class for the first time was not just my baby — it was a whole person with her own mind, a mind I wanted to become intimately acquainted with, and human needs no different than mine or yours. Maybe other parents figure this out right away, but I didn’t.

Without that moment of clarity, I’m not sure when I would have seen beyond the needy infant to the person — possibly when she began walking, saying recognizable words, or at least communicating to me by pointing or gesturing.  Intellectually, I knew she was all there, but not to the extent that I would think to put myself in her shoes (or booties) and treat her the way I would wish to be treated.

One of the most profound lessons I’ve learned since becoming a mom– reinforced by observing hundreds of other parents and babies interact — is that there is a self-fulfilling prophecy to the way we view our babies. If we believe them to be helpless, dependent, needy (albeit lovely) creatures, their behavior will confirm those beliefs. Alternatively, if we see our infants as capable, intelligent, responsive people ready to participate in life, initiate activity, receive and return our efforts to communicate with them, then we find that they are all of those things. 

I am not suggesting that we treat infants as small adults. They need a baby’s life, but they deserve the same level of human respect that we give to adults. Here are some examples of baby care that reflect the way I like to be treated:

Tell me what’s going on. If I had a stroke that made me as dependent as an infant  (I couldn’t take care of my own needs or express myself), I would hope to be warned before I was being touched, lifted, fed, sponged, rinsed, dressed, given a shot, etc.  I would want to know everything that was going on in my immediate world, especially if it directly related to my body. I would want to be invited to participate to the extent I was capable (i.e., given an opportunity to hold the spoon myself.)

At first it feels awkward talking to someone who does not talk back, but we quickly get used to it. Babies begin to understand our respectful intention to include them much earlier than we might believe. And they communicate earlier if we open the door. 

Give me attention. Babies need undivided attention from loved ones, just like you and I do, especially when we are joined physically (as in breastfeeding.)  Several minutes of real attention in intervals each day is more fulfilling than hours and hours of empty physical contact. Stuck sitting in the car next to my husband while he talks on the phone for an extended period of time makes me feel invisible, not important, loved or appreciated.

When someone touches me, especially when it’s intimate (as in a baby’s doctor’s appointment, bath or diaper change), I want to be included in what is going on, encouraged to pay attention, not asked to look elsewhere and ignore what’s happening.

Hear me, don’t just fix me. Relationship counselors teach it, and it applies to our babies too. I want my feelings heard, not fixed. Please don’t ‘shush’ and pacify all my cries, sticking something in my mouth just to stop my tears. I want to be able to try to tell you what I need, before you assume it. Sometimes I just want to cry in your arms and have it be okay with you. Relax. It feels comforting to have you here, calmly listening and trying to understand. 

Let me create and initiate my own activities. I like tagging along on adventures with the people I love sometimes, but I also crave time to initiate activity that I choose. Give me a quiet, safe place where I am not hemmed in, so I can move my body and have uninterrupted thoughts and daydreams. I need time to figure out the way my marvelous hands work, and why there are things like breezes that I feel but cannot see. What I’m doing may not look like much, but I’m actually very busy. (And when I am deeply involved in something, please don’t interrupt me to change my diaper.)

I love knowing that you are nearby in case I need you, or within shouting distance, but please don’t get me in the habit of following you all the time when there is so much I could be experiencing for myself. Notice the things I like to do.  Let me show you the interesting person I am.

Trust me with the truth. You don’t have to smile at me when you’re upset. Be honest with me. Be yourself, so that I can be myself, too. We have lots to learn about each other. It won’t always be perfect together, but it will be real. And when you are worrying and projecting about the future, I’ll tug you back into the moment. Promise.

The simple acknowledgement of Trevor’s point of view calmed him almost instantly. He sniffled once or twice and then sat patiently, eyes fixed on the door, waiting for his mom to return.

This situation was repeated the following week in class. Loren told Trevor, “I’m going to the bathroom,” and somewhat tentatively walked out. Trevor cried. I went to him and said, “You didn’t want her to go. She’s coming back. It’s hard when your mom leaves and you don’t want her to. Do you want me to pick you up?” (He didn’t) This time Trevor continued to cry for a seemingly endless minute. I felt the discomfort of everyone in the class, including my own! Finally, having expressed his pain completely, he became quiet, sat still for a moment, then reached for a nearby ball. By the time Loren came back he was involved in play, but when he saw her he cried out to her and seemed to be objecting to her previous action. She sat with him and allowed him to finish his complaints. He soon became interested in his surroundings again.

No one likes to hear the sound of a crying baby. Even a few seconds of crying can be unbearable for most adults to hear. Whether we are a parent, grandparent or paid caregiver we feel that we are failing if the child in our care is upset. We want to distract a crying child, to make the child smile, and we will do almost anything in our power to put an end to the feeling that is triggering the child’s tears. But ask yourself: when a loved one leaves, should we not feel a sense of loss and sadness?

Let’s say we follow our natural urges when dealing with Trevor. When Trevor’s mom leaves, he cries, we rush to him. “It’s okay, it’s okay! Mommy’s coming back! Don’t cry…shhhh shhhh. Oh, look at this BALL…here, catch it, catch it! Yay!” This action could indeed put an abrupt end to Trevor’s outburst and he would stop crying. But what is the child learning? Most importantly, where did those feelings of loss go?

Fast-forward a few years. Trevor’s beloved family dog dies. His parents are devastated and Trevor’s sad cries only magnify their grief. “Trevor…Oh, it’s okay, it’s okay! Don’t cry…shhhh! It’s all right. We have to be strong. We’ll get another dog—a new puppy!”

The recent death of my mother has given me renewed interest in the grief process. The problem, as so aptly put by John W. James and Russell Friedman in The Grief Recovery Handbook, is that, “We’re taught how to acquire things, not what to do when we lose them.” Parents, friends, and even society encourage us to cover up grief rather than to deal with it productively. Don’t feel bad. Replace the loss. Be strong for others. Keep busy. These are a sampling of the spoken and unspoken suggestions we are given, starting at a young age, for dealing with grief. They require us to ignore our honest feelings, hold them in, bury them. They are well-intentioned ideas sprung from the discomfort of those around us; no one wants to see us upset. But these directions only undermine our ability to express our true feelings, steering us to the incomplete resolution of grief and loss.

Grieving people want and need to be heard not fixed. But grievers also want the approval of others, and thus feel the need to appear recovered for them. Our suppressed and unresolved feelings will then diminish our joie de vivre and sap our life energy. We may seek relief in drugs, alcohol, or other addictive behaviors. At best, we are responding unnaturally to loss and disappointment, continuing habits that threaten future happiness and a sense of well being. This is why it is vital to learn how to cope with loss in its simplest and earliest forms.

At Resources for Infant Educarers (RIE) we are fortunate to study emotional health at the beginning of life, and as I pondered the origins of grief for a child, I thought of infants like Trevor experiencing the momentary absence of a loved one. A parent’s separation, even to go into the next room, is indeed the first loss most children face. If we can handle this situation carefully, perhaps we can send a child in a healthy direction as they experience future losses in life.

Another early loss children deal with occurs when a sibling is born. The older child’s relationship with his primary caregivers is altered suddenly and profoundly. No matter how sensitively the parents handle the situation, no matter how much the child appears to ‘love’ the new baby, there is grief for the preexisting situation, for what once was. The new third party causes forced reconfiguration of the child’s place in his world and tremendous loss. If a child can be trusted and encouraged to express the gamut of negative feelings he or she may be having, and if parents can use what energy they have to keep behavioral limits consistently intact while allowing for painful feelings, then the child can stay on the course of healthy emotional release.

When the children in our care are grieving a loss, no matter how insignificant the loss may seem to us, our job is to facilitate that loss and simply let them grieve. Infant expert and founder of RIE, Magda Gerber, often reminded her students, “Sometimes we win, sometimes we lose.” Trevor, and all infants, can be trusted to grieve as an individual in a unique and perfect way. Infants demonstrate the authentic expression of their feelings when given the opportunity. If we can give them the space and time to express painful feelings instead of arresting their cries, and if we can steady ourselves to work through our own discomfort, then our children can be reassured that their true responses are accepted and appropriate. Children thus can continue to experience loss naturally, learn to deal with loss capably, and know that loss is survivable. This mindful approach is vital because when we adopt it, far from failing, we are providing the highest level of care…and love.