Baby Einstein is Stupid, Part 2

So a day after my Baby Einstein rant, I hear this commentary on NPR's Marketplace. You can download the podcast if you want.

Aidan's been Baby Einstein free for several days now. (Not that he ever 'used' that often before The Renunciation of Baby Einstein). It's so true, what they say: play is the ideal form of learning right now. Its interactive element -- not to mention the bonding it allows for -- demands the use of more muscles than meet the eyes, which are the only muscles used when Aidan stares at the TV. I've been reformed. I generally stray away from absolutes, especially when it comes to the nuanced and complicated world of parenthood, but if there's one Truth to be told it has to be the utter value of play.

Baby Einstein isn't Smart

I'm sure I wasn't the only new mother whose ears perked up when, during his State of the Union Address yesterday, President Bush introduced the world to the founder of Baby Einstein, a multimedia video and toy production company that specializes in learning activities for children aged six months to three years old. At first glance, the Baby Einstein video for infants seems like a little slice of heaven. It's entertaining and educational. And we all know what that means: baby is preoccupied (in an educational sorta way) so mommy can snag some time for herself. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, right?

Wrong.

Several studies conducted a few years ago (at mum's alma mater, no less) "linked each hour of daily TV before age three to lower performance on reading comprehension and short-term memory tests at ages six and seven." The authors themselves: "This analysis has shown a consistent pattern of negative associations between television viewing before age three years and adverse cognitive outcomes at ages six and seven years." Since these studies and, from what I can gather others like them, the AAP (American Association of Pediatrics) issued a recommendation: no TV for children under two. Nada. Period.

Turns out Baby Einstein isn't all that smart. (Dare I say that, by extension, neither was George Bush when he quite publicly endorsed it?)

The news of this "must (not) see TV" recommenation has this mom on edge. A good friend of ours, who has three happy, healthy boys of her own, bought us a BE video months ago. Although we hadn't yet heard of these new studies, our instincts told us to refrain from plopping it into the DVD for months. Until one day, when Aidan was exceptionally fussy and I needed a serious break (to shower, grade essays, even eat...something essential). I succumbed to temptation that is Baby Eistein. Since that fateful November day the Fam and I have turned, yet only on occasion, to the magic of Baby Einstein. We never keep it on for very long. Nor are we habitual (i.e. daily) users. Chalk it up to my own liberal-progressive hatred of the mediocrity-box, but I'm just naturally turned off by the sight of my infant son staring at a television screen.

Even so, let me say right up front that I completely understand why it is a multi-million dollar enterprise. The thirty-minute video transforms our son into a quiet, content, smiling beam of baby sunshine. The mood in the room turns instantly from chaos to tranquility. What exhausted working mother wouldn't give into that once in a while?

Yet, let's face it. something this good must be bad. And, according to the American Association of Pediatrics, Baby Einstein is bad. Very, very bad. (A little voice inside me has to wonder how the vibrant colors and classical music on the screen are all that different from the effects of a mobile, which is also colorful, in motion, and sonically-endowed.) Although the study itself concludes that there need to be, well, more studies, and although I happen to disagree with other AAP "recommendations," I feel strongly that when it comes to this partiuclar issue (i.e. the development of my son's reading capacity and attention span) I have been reborn.

Alas, the authority behind the AAP has won. Dear Hubby and I have taken a vow to forego the goodness of Baby Einstein -- and infant television in general -- for as long and as consistently as we can. We're realists, though. We both work and we're new to this whole deal, so we're allowing ourselves the option of quick indulgences -- i.e. twenty minutes here and there -- if doing so makes a day a bit easier. (We are strongly of the school of thought that parental sanity is essential for infant well-being). Even so, we agree that a new "anti-television" discourse is in order in this household. If those studies are valid -- and if every hour of TV means a future fraught with ADD, poor reading comprehension, and an overly moody toddler -- I say bring on the challenge of finding alternatives to the celluloid pacifier. Challenges and riding out the storms: that's what motherhood is all about, right?

sleep, crying it out, and real results

So by the fifth month it's safe to say that the big "issue" of the day is sleep. Gone are the days of predictable sleep patterns that find Aidan eating and sleeping every two to three hours like clockwork. He's actually developing a pattern: two naps during the day and a veritable "bedtime" at night. I heard at a parents' support group that "sleeping through the night" means sleeping for five hour stretches (and not, as I had hoped, sleeping until I'm ready to wake up). Aidan is sleeping through the night alright. The only thing is, his night starts at 8:30pm. And while I'm always tired and easily prone to napping, I just can't get my own self down that early. I think what happens is that I'm so thrilled by the idea of some free time that I stay awake anyway, my utter fatigue notwithstanding. I'm usually down by 11:00, only to find myself awake and having to nurse in bed right around 1:30, 2:00 if we're lucky.

I'm not complaining -- just documenting this little milestone called "bedtime." I never thought we'd get to this point, being able to count on a scheduled time for 'night-night.' How we got here, though, might raise eyebrows. We succumbed, after weeks of struggling with ways to get Aidan into a routine, to the dreaded "CIO" method. That, of course, stands for 'crying it out,' and it's exactly that. We never let Aidan cry for longer than five minutes (although, according to my mom, Simon's mom, and just about every mom old enough to be a grandmother, this is nothing). Here's what we did -- and what has worked -- to get here. After nursing and burping, I put Aidan down, rub his stomach and head, and sing or whisper sweet nothings to him for a few minutes. I turn on his "sounds of nature" clock, dim the lights, and walk out quietly. Five minutes later he cries. I come in immediately, making sure not to pick him up or rock him, reassure him I still exist, rub his head and coo until he stops crying and leave again. Another five minutes go by: baby cries. This time, however, I wait a couple minutes before going back in. Dear hubbie and I continue this cycle, allowing for longer durations each time (but never exceeding five minutes) until he finally sleeps.

The first week or so we had to do this song and dance for at least an hour at a time before he'd fall asleep. Now, we're down to five minutes and sometimes, like today, he actually sleeps almost immediately after being put down because (I think) he finally associates his co-sleeper with, um, sleep.

"The books" are all over the map when it comes to getting your baby down. Some rail against this CIO method vehemently, warning you that your bundle of love will have serious self-esteem issues later in life. Others suggest quite the opposite: that letting your baby cry it out will help them learn to be self-sufficient and independent. Still others suggest a method that actually involves waking up your baby in the middle of the night (I never finished reading past the first paragraph of that suggestion). Who knows which method is "right?" It seems like no matter which method I use, there's a book or theory out there certain to convince me I'm a failure. What ultimately "worked" wasn't a single theory I espoused, but a cocktail of various ideas and suggestions. What worked was being able to trust a hunch I had about my son's temperament; my ability to recognize his "I'm dead tired" cues; and my intuition that although he cries he's not at all traumatized or in pain. Mind you, I waited five months to do try this CIO approach to sleeping. Five months! That means that for the first four months of his life I never let him cry longer than five minutes before going to sleep. By month five, it seemed like my self-esteem was more at stake than his...so I gave it a shot and he's now able to sleep sans issues.

I'm convinced, after five months of trial and error on all fronts, that those well-intentioned parenting books can actually impede intuitive parenting. (There's probably a book on "intuitive parenting," but whatever.) This isn't to say these books aren't helpful. For some things they're almost indispensable (figuring out what constitutes a temperature; knowing how to recognize constipation, etc.) But in so many situations -- certainly when it comes to the sleep issue -- they're not to be trusted as instruction manuals are. As you put it, S, they're not raising our kids, we are!