1. Breathe like a bee.
2. Create magnetic hands.
3. Dissolve a thought.
Localização: idealmente, os quartos das crianças deveriam estar virados para nascente, de forma a absorverem a energia ascendente do sol (representativa do crescimento). Oeste (poente) é também uma boa direcção para crianças muito activas (energia descendente).
Iluminação: as luzes devem ser focos virados para cima, dado que fornecem uma iluminação mais global e bem distribuída, ampliando o espaço. Devem evitar-se candeeiros de metal, que conduzem de uma forma mais acentuada a energia electromagnética e a electricidade estática. É importante que a luz seja a suficiente para que a criança não tenha dificuldade em ver os brinquedos, nomeadamente quando está a brincar no chão, mas que não seja demasiada, permitindo redução à hora do deitar. Uma luz de presença pode ser uma boa companhia, mais pela referência que representa do que pela iluminação que produz.
Janelas: devem ter cortinados de algodão, de preferência de enrolar para levantar durante o dia, criando uma atmosfera mais activa, e descer durante a noite, para que a criança possa dormir melhor, sem luzes exteriores.
Soalho: evitar o uso de alcatifas, dada a acumulação de pó, ácaros e bolores. O soalho de madeira é o mais saudável e o mais fácil de limpar. Poderá haver uma zona de linóleo ou material equivalente, para certas brincadeiras que requerem superfícies deslizantes.
Cor das paredes: os tons de azul (claro) são particularmente bons; nuances de verde ou amarelo podem também ser utilizadas. O uso de duas cores é bom.
Mobília: os móveis devem ter cores alegres e os cantos arredondados, para diminuir o risco de acidentes.
Camas: é importante que as crianças durmam com a cabeça virada para o mesmo lado, com a cabeceira encostada à parede; as camas devem ser de madeira. Não se deve deixar as camas por fazer durante o dia.
Tecidos: utilizar lençóis ou fronhas de almofada de algodão. Os cobertores devem ser de materiais naturais. O colchão, se em algodão maciço, permite que o sono seja mais reparador e que a transpiração se dê de uma forma adequada. Os edredões são uma boa opção, mas há que atender ao material interior (pode a criança ser alérgica às penas, por exemplo), e ao grau de aquecimento e absorção da humidade e suor. À noite as crianças suam mais.
Guarda-brinquedos: colocar umas quantas caixas (de madeira, se possível), de modo a que a criança aí guarde todos os brinquedos antes de dormir, de forma organizada. Durante o dia os jogos poderão estar mais disponíveis.
A evitar
Tendo em conta tudo o que se sabe, não será mau tomar algumas precauções:
material eléctrico e electrónico – é essencial que a criança não durma perto de uma aparelhagem de som (a distância mínima deverá ser superior a um metro e meio); as colunas de som contêm um íman que altera bastante o campo electromagnético; o mesmo é verdade para relógios digitais e computadores que, mesmo desligados, criam um campo de electricidade estática nociva para a saúde – o melhor é, caso existam, desligá-los na tomada, durante a noite;
cabeceiras por baixo de janelas – não se deve colocar a cabeceira da cama debaixo de uma janela, pois cria energia muito activa que pode dificultar o sono;
portas abertas – durante a noite, o ideal é fechar a porta do quarto, assim como as cortinas, acalmando assim o fluxo de energia e favorecendo um sono profundo, a menos que a criança reclame por se sentir amedrontada;
mobílias pesadas – o mobiliário do quarto deve ser «leve» e simples, para não o tornar opressivo ou dar uma ideia de redução de espaço, que torna o «animal» que há em nós naturalmente mais agressivo e inquieto;
espelhos – mesmo sem ir às teorias que dizem que os espelhos impedem de nos livrarmos das emoções antigas, sabe-se que amplificam as ondas electromagnéticas e a electricidade residual, interferindo com o processo de acalmar.
Atenção: nada do que escrevi é garantia de noites totalmente tranquilas – isto é um aviso para os pais que já não dormem há dois ou três anos e que poderão pensar que os seus problemas se vão resolver com meia dúzia de medidas, até porque os factores que interferem com o sono são múltiplos –, mas pensando que o sono é uma fase do dia em que se deve receber um mínimo de estímulos externos e ter a máxima segurança para o cérebro se dedicar «de corpo e alma» à gestão da informação e bom arquivo dos estímulos, com a construção de uma memória eficiente, todas estas indicações fazem sentido e apontam na mesma direcção.
One afternoon at the playground last summer, shortly after the birth of my third child, I made the mistake of idly musing about breast-feeding to a group of new mothers I’d just met. This time around, I said, I was considering cutting it off after a month or so. At this remark, the air of insta-friendship we had established cooled into an icy politeness, and the mothers shortly wandered away to chase little Emma or Liam onto the slide. Just to be perverse, over the next few weeks I tried this experiment again several more times. The reaction was always the same: circles were redrawn such that I ended up in the class of mom who, in a pinch, might feed her baby mashed-up Chicken McNuggets.
In my playground set, the urban moms in their tight jeans and oversize sunglasses size each other up using a whole range of signifiers: organic content of snacks, sleekness of stroller, ratio of tasteful wooden toys to plastic. But breast-feeding is the real ticket into the club. My mother friends love to exchange stories about subversive ways they used to sneak frozen breast milk through airline security (it’s now legal), or about the random brutes on the street who don’t approve of breast-feeding in public. When Angelina Jolie wanted to secure her status as America’s ur-mother, she posed on the cover of W magazine nursing one of her twins. Alt-rocker Pete Wentz recently admitted that he tasted his wife, Ashlee Simpson’s, breast milk (“soury” and “weird”), after bragging that they have a lot of sex—both of which must have seemed to him markers of a cool domestic existence.
From the moment a new mother enters the obstetrician’s waiting room, she is subjected to the upper-class parents’ jingle: “Breast Is Best.” Parenting magazines offer “23 Great Nursing Tips,” warnings on “Nursing Roadblocks,” and advice on how to find your local lactation consultant (note to the childless: yes, this is an actual profession, and it’s thriving). Many of the stories are accompanied by suggestions from the ubiquitous parenting guru Dr. William Sears, whose Web site hosts a comprehensive list of the benefits of mother’s milk. “Brighter Brains” sits at the top: “I.Q. scores averaging seven to ten points higher!” (Sears knows his audience well.) The list then moves on to the dangers averted, from infancy on up: fewer ear infections, allergies, stomach illnesses; lower rates of obesity, diabetes, heart disease. Then it adds, for good measure, stool with a “buttermilk-like odor” and “nicer skin”—benefits, in short, “more far-reaching than researchers have even dared to imagine.”
In 2005, Babytalk magazine won a National Magazine Award for an article called “You Can Breastfeed.” Given the prestige of the award, I had hoped the article might provide some respite from the relentlessly cheerful tip culture of the parenting magazines, and fill mothers in on the real problems with nursing. Indeed, the article opens with a promisingly realistic vignette, featuring a theoretical “You” cracking under the strain of having to breast-feed around the clock, suffering “crying jags” and cursing at your husband. But fear not, You. The root of the problem is not the sudden realization that your ideal of an equal marriage, with two parents happily taking turns working and raising children, now seems like a farce. It turns out to be quite simple: You just haven’t quite figured out how to fit “Part A into Part B.” Try the “C-hold” with your baby and some “rapid arm movement,” the story suggests. Even Dr. Sears pitches in: “Think ‘fish lips,’” he offers.
In the days after my first child was born, I welcomed such practical advice. I remember the midwife coming to my hospital bed and shifting my arm here, and the baby’s head there, and then everything falling into place. But after three children and 28 months of breast-feeding (and counting), the insistent cheerleading has begun to grate. Buttermilk-like odor? Now Dr. Sears is selling me too hard. I may have put in fewer parenting years than he has, but I do have some perspective. And when I look around my daughter’s second-grade class, I can’t seem to pick out the unfortunate ones: “Oh, poor little Sophie, whose mother couldn’t breast-feed. What dim eyes she has. What a sickly pallor. And already sprouting acne!”
I dutifully breast-fed each of my first two children for the full year that the American Academy of Pediatrics recommends. I have experienced what the Babytalk story calls breast-feeding-induced “maternal nirvana.” This time around, nirvana did not describe my state of mind; I was launching a new Web site and I had two other children to care for, and a husband I would occasionally like to talk to. Being stuck at home breast-feeding as he walked out the door for work just made me unreasonably furious, at him and everyone else.
In Betty Friedan’s day, feminists felt shackled to domesticity by the unreasonably high bar for housework, the endless dusting and shopping and pushing the Hoover around—a vacuum cleaner being the obligatory prop for the “happy housewife heroine,” as Friedan sardonically called her. When I looked at the picture on the cover of Sears’s Breastfeeding Book—a lady lying down, gently smiling at her baby and still in her robe, although the sun is well up—the scales fell from my eyes: it was not the vacuum that was keeping me and my 21st-century sisters down, but another sucking sound. (...)
Lengthy article from The Atlantic
1) When people came to my door I should have accepted the food. I should have pretended my stitches hurt really bad so I could have got cupcakes.
2) When people offered to clean my house, I should have accepted. I never liked cleaning the bathroom anyways.
3) When people offered to babysit so I could sleep, I should have accepted. There’s nothing like sleeping the afternoon away.
4) When my husband offered to feed the baby during the night, I should have accepted. Then he could hear me snoring while he’s up with the baby.
5) When people offered to change the baby for me, I should have accepted. Why not, that will be one less poopy diaper on my grand total of the million I would have changed in the years ahead.
6) I should have never used the change table. They are useless. You can’t keep them unsupervised for one second. That’s what they made floors for…and they are free.
7) I should have let my baby use the pacifier. There is nothing like waiting in a Boxing Day line only to have to leave it because your baby will only nurse.
8 ) I should have bought more than one bouncy chair. Those chairs are multi-purpose. If the baby is fussy you can throw him in it. If he’s hungry, throw him in there and feed him. If you want to watch Ellen, throw him in there and let him watch too.
9) I should have taught my dog to babysit. There’s nothing like making your dog watch the baby. Teach him to bark when he thinks something wrong. That way you will be able to get in that time to email your friend.
10) The thing that I should have listened to is…”Sleep when your baby sleeps.” They say this for a reason. Mom’s aren’t supposed to be awake for 24 hours. We are not doctors. We need sleep. I need sleep. I should have relaxed more and did that. The housework will be there tomorrow, but will your sanity be?
Found by Daddy at Knocked-up Celebs
Seriously...