Fun With [Hack! Cough!] Ferberizing

Maybe you haven’t heard of Ferberizing. Has to do with raising kids. Basically it’s the school of thought that advocates letting your infant get over itself and cry itself to sleep instead of the constant coddling that occurs, for instance, at our place. I’m getting pretty sick of being kicked awake every morning at 4:30 because The Man Cub refuses to sleep in his crib after about midnight.

Also, the refusing to nap when he’s clearly out on his feet – I’ve had it with that too. All the books say a) Man Cubs his age should be napping several times a day and b) they should be doing it when and where we say so.

So in the absence of The Missus the other afternoon, I decided to let him cry it out. Problem solved and I’d be the hero for a change.

Trouble is, he has enough of me in him that he never gave up, never gave in and never surrendered. He sat up in his crib, crimson-faced, and screamed blue murder for an hour straight till I finally threw in the towel and came in and got him. After normal breathing resumed, he fell asleep almost straight-away in my arms. I walked him back to the crib, placed him gingerly in it… and the howling started again immediately.

The Missus was due home imminently, so I just let him do a little more acting out till the A-Team arrived to save the day.

Here’s the thing, though: Now he sounds like a miniature Tom Waits. Like he’s been gargling glass shards and smoking three packs a day since the Eisenhower administration. His sweet little blood-curdling soprano sounds like it’s been dragged over thirty miles of rough road.

Needless to say, the dog is not pleased.

Nor is The Missus. She said to me, “If his voice doesn’t get better in a couple days-“

“We’ll have to get him some singing lessons!” I quipped.

If I was looking for a way to shine a brighter light on my error, I couldn’t have done a better job. Note to self…

Anyhow, I’m sure he’ll be fine. I’m not sure I’ll ever sleep a proper night again in my life, but I’m sure The Man Cub will prevail in the end. So far, his record is spotless.

And the world can always use another gravelly-voiced saloon singer. He’ll be grateful for my well-intentioned parental neglect when he accepts his Nobel Peace Prize for gravelly-voiced saloon singing some day, wait and see.