If you can get out of the apartment and into a house, do it. It is never too late within the first two years — possibly longer, though we are only at one year and eight months as we write this.
Here is why. You will discover soon enough that babies sleep better outside than inside. (Everything about sleep is in Chapter 5. Go there now if you need it.)
If you do not yet know how much baby sleep matters, we are sure you are about to become a rookie parent rather than being one already. Because once you are, you learn fast: your happiness is directly connected to your baby’s sleep. Really. You find this out in the first twenty-four hours after birth, and it stays true until — well. Forever.
If you are living in an apartment, you might think the balcony is the answer to all your sleeping questions. You rock the baby in the pram, you leave her there, and voilà. In reality, not always. You need fresh air and quiet. And as always in apartment houses, there are the neighbours who smoke, and they always live next to you. Or the ones with a dog. A barking one, of course. Left home alone at the exact moment you are trying to put your baby to sleep. On the balcony.
We lived on the top floor, with a balcony overlooking a nature reserve, and still had someone else’s smoke arriving daily. Some of it was hash. The rental company was not interested. So instead we opened a window on the far side of the building, kept one room permanently ventilated as a dedicated sleeping room, parked the pram in it, and moved like ninjas around the two rooms we had left.
We do not recommend the ninja experience.
Getting her to sleep out there
Roll the pram back and forth — with the baby in it, obviously — until she goes. Two conditions make it work: she should be fed and tired, and she should be able to see you at first, or she will not settle. The full set of techniques is in Chapter 5.
So, let’s say the baby falls asleep. You leave the pram outside, hoping the moment will last forever (spoiler: no). But as long as it does last, your goal is to breathe out and run to: (a) sleep, (b) shower, (c) sex. Or — and this is probably not the first three months — read a book, watch a series, even work. But sleep comes first. Sleep always comes first. There is no such thing as too much recovery in the first two years.
And if there is a neighbour drilling, or someone screaming about something, neither of you needs it. Not now. Not ever.
Worth saying, that some babies hate sleeping in the pram. We know exactly one, but we suspect his mother might be trying at the wrong moment. Assume yours will be fine.
Leaving a baby outside without losing your mind
If you did not grow up somewhere this is normal, the instruction “leave the baby outside and go indoors” sounds insane. Every parent in Scandinavia does it daily. Here is the practical version.
Cold is not the problem. Cold, dry air is what makes the sleep good. Wind and damp are the problems. Dress her one layer warmer than you would indoors, use a proper pram bag rated for the temperature, and check the back of her neck rather than her hands — hands are always cold and tell you nothing.
Wind and rain. A rain cover keeps water off but also cuts airflow, so use it for drizzle, not for sealing her in. Position the pram out of direct wind. If the weather is genuinely bad, this is an indoor day; nobody is scoring you.
Sun, never. Direct sun on a pram, or a blanket thrown over the hood to make shade, both turn it into an oven fast. Shade or nothing.
Watching her. Whatever you use, you want either line of sight or audio, and a spot that is genuinely yours.
Flat on her back, same as indoors, with nothing loose in the pram.
What to look for in the house
So: what house should you choose? The ideal version includes:
- quiet — no barking dogs, no shared walls, no alarms
- no maintenance burden
- somewhere deliveries can reach you
Quiet. This is the whole point. Quiet is what you are actually buying.
Low maintenance burden. The garden, the roof and the roads should be as easy to take care of as possible. We are in Denmark, which means you cannot mess up the lawn or the pedestrian path outside your house — or the Danes will take you to court. That is a joke. The important part is this: you will have no time for gardening or renovating. And we mean it: no time. NO.
And the last piece: being reachable. By whom? By whatever brings you cleaning, cooked food and groceries. Chapter 2 will tell you to outsource everything you possibly can, and that advice is worthless if the van cannot find you. The whole house thing only works if the deliveries can actually get to you, so choose accordingly.
Now that the theory is clear, here is our story.
Our story
We worked it out in a borrowed summer house when our son was six months old. We had been struggling for months while in the apartment building, but within a week it was obvious: he slept better outdoors, the whole house was ours while he did, and the sleep was plainly better than anything we had managed indoors. Even with all the window-opening gymnastics.
So we moved — from the capital to a remote part of the country.
You do not have to be this drastic. Rent a house for a week. Watch what happens to your days. Then decide.
Maybe you are still unsure any of this will happen to you, or that you need to move at all. We would be happy if it does not. But in a year you will discover the next enormous advantage of living in a house: your baby starts needing walks in nature, and voilà (again) — there it is. Contact with the outdoors. Immediately. No sleep and sex time for you, but a lot of joy (and stress relief) for the whole family. At the time of writing our son is one year and eight months (though at our rate of working on this, he may well be fifteen by the time we publish). He has an outdoor pull-up bar, a small swimming pool with an ambulance drowning in it (sad), a personal horse he uses to reach the nearby playgrounds, and limitless experience picking strawberries. Enjoyable childhood? Definitely.
The rest of this guide assumes you are exhausted anyway. Start with yourself.