It was lively in my house in the wee hours of the morning today. I couldn't sleep and, when I finally decided to hit the sack, I couldn't rouse my husband from his favorite chair. So I decided to go to bed and figured he'd join me in bed eventually.
As is my customary habit, I checked on my son before retiring for the evening. He was wet and sitting up in bed when I walked in his room. He started wailing when he saw me. Hoping not to disrupt the evening too much, I thought that I could change him and change his bed without taking him out of the crib. That didn't work out so well and my poor little boy ended up wrapped in a pee-soaked sheet as I struggled with removing the bedclothes. I finally took the little one out of the crib and lay him on a fresh blanket on the floor so that I could focus my effort on the bed.
I ran the soiled linens and pajamas to the washing machine and discovered that my boy was missing when I returned to his room to finish making his bed. I looked in the front room - my husband was still snoring blissfully. I looked in the hall bathroom, expecting to find him on the potty chair - no dice. I found him in my bedroom, tossing his beloved "burpie" on my bed. Uh-oh, he wanted to snuggle with Mama before going back to bed.
I ran back to his room, determined to get the crib made up as quickly as possible. As I was putting on a fresh mattress cover, he walked in his room and announced that he was "tie-tie," which means that he's tired. I asked him to sit down and wait a minute because I was almost finished and he could go back to bed. I noted that I still had to dress him in fresh underpants and jammies and grabbed a clean fitted crib sheet. He took his blanket and wandered away with it. Nuts! I just knew that he was setting up camp in my bedroom.
I finally got the crib made up and popped my head in the living room, hoping that my husband could enjoy this aspect of parenting with me. Nope, my hubby was still oblivious to the flurry of activity. When I walked in my bedroom, my son was leaning against my bed, thumb in his mouth, eyes dropping. I picked him up and returned him to his bedroom. I dressed him in clean clothes and began to put him in his crib.
He freaked out! He began flailing around, weeping and crying my name. I caved and asked if he'd like to snuggle with Mama for a few minutes before going to bed. He said, "Yes." So my son ended up in bed with me at around 1:00 this morning.
He fell asleep within minutes of being placed in my bed and cuddled. I thought about taking him back to his own bed, but I was sure that I'd wake him so I decided to let him sleep in my bed. He has never spent the night sleeping in my bed and I kind of hope that he never does again!
I have a very wide bed. It is the widest commercial bed that you can purchase. It wasn't nearly wide enough to accommodate me and an impossibly active toddler. I think cosleeping sounds like a lovely way to remain close to young children, but I don't think I'm cut out for it. It was the most terrible night's sleep that I've ever experienced.
He started out the evening (morning) with his head near my head. By the time I woke, around 6:30ish, his feet had kicked my head no fewer than six times. His hands had touched or slapped my head at least three times. I woke at least every single hour because of something he was doing in his sleep.
I was highly annoyed during my all-night assault and I considered going to the den to sleep on the futon. I didn't because I worried that he'd be afraid if he woke up and was all alone in Mama & Daddy's bed. Instead, I moved as far to the edge as I could possibly get and I positioned myself so that I'd be less likely so suffer any major damage from his flailing arms and legs.
My husband woke and decided to come to bed at some point. I think he was surprised to find our son in bed, but he was tired and he threw the comforter back. I cautioned him to be aware of the child's hands and feet and he slipped in beside the boy. The two of us bookended our little one and that was sweet. Until that same little one twisted and kicked me, once again, in the face. He kept hitting his father in the face and my husband finally left to sleep in the den. Yes, I'm jealous.
I never advocated for cosleeping in our family in the early days because I was impossibly afraid of hurting the baby. Now I'm afraid that he would hurt us if we were a cosleeping family. Here's hoping that he stays in his own bed tonight!!