For the past year or so, I've left the sleepless nights of infant life behind and settled into a welcome routine of 8 uninterrupted hours of glorious slumber.
My girls are of an age where they know the bedtime routine, they welcome it. And more often than not, they fall into a deep 9 to 11 hour sleep leaving me and occasionally my husband, when he's here, to enjoy the fruits of our labor-alone.
It wasn't easy getting to this point, but laying down the "No Kids in Bed" Rule early, set us up for a glorious freedom we now cherish. When I walk into my childless bedroom, the crystal candle holders, the soft lighting, the enormous plush bed gaping open at the sight of me. This is my space, our adult room. Sure, there's a collection of stuffed animals tucked into the closet, and my make up drawer hasn't been organized since my first daughter could walk. But I'll take the good with the bad and manage to keep the floor beside my bed clear of legos and baby dolls.
And then, Halloween happened. And for three nights running, my FIVE year old has come running into my room at various ungodly hours of the night crying and yelping to climb in our bed. WTF??? All my careful planning, years of discipline, what about the "No Kids in Bed" Rule??? And now I share my cozy bed space with a 55 pound body blanket.
Last night was the last straw, 1:40 in the friggin morning and here come the whimpering cries and pitter patter of five year old feet. And suddenly we're wrestling each other at the edge of my bed.
"Shelby, you cannot sleep in my bed tonight!" blocking her path with my open arms.
She ducks around me and continues a frantic crawl up the side of the mattress.
"Shelby! Come on! Let's go back into your bed. Sissy's in there, you're not alone, it's okay.... (she's still crawling in place with my hand on her forehead-realizing I need to up my ante, I groan) I'll come lie down with you."
No luck. She's determined to make it into my bed and she's not listening to a word I'm whispering.
So, in frustration, I remove myself from her path and begin my slow trudge toward her twin sized bed. Hoping she'll follow.
But before I get there, I stop for a potty break and settle onto the cold seat while I listen to John try to reason with her from our bed.
"Shelby," he says through clenched teeth, "you cannot keep coming into our bed. You're a big girl. You need to go back to your room. Mommies already in there."
Next thing I know we're having a family party in the bathroom while Shelby continues crying and whining about wanting to get in our bed.
John makes his move to lift her into his arms and deliver her to her own bed when she goes completely boneless. Her entire body flops onto the floor in an effective five year old tantrum complete with loud crying. It's dark, it's cold.
It's 1:45 in the morning, for goodness sakes. WHAT IS GOING ON!!?!?!?!
After what seems like hours of grappling to get her into her own bed, I lie down beside her in the dark and ask, "What's the matter with your bed? Why do you keep coming into my room?"
More whimpering.
"There's a vulture in the corner over there, Mommy."
OHHHHH. Okay, that vulture right over there behind your door is the reason your dad and I haven't gotten any sleep for three days?!?! Well, lemme just give that vulture a piece of my mind, shall I?
I mean, really. With no cable, no TV, and a limited opportunity for exposure to anything inappropriate, apparently one trip to Halloween Headquarters, a few night walks around the neighborhood and suddenly I have ginormous feathered fowl in our house. I fully intend to address that horrid beast tonight BEFORE we turn out the lights. And I'm crossing my fingers that Halloween Fairy skips our house tonight so we can all get some sleep. Get lost VULTURE!!!
My girls are of an age where they know the bedtime routine, they welcome it. And more often than not, they fall into a deep 9 to 11 hour sleep leaving me and occasionally my husband, when he's here, to enjoy the fruits of our labor-alone.
It wasn't easy getting to this point, but laying down the "No Kids in Bed" Rule early, set us up for a glorious freedom we now cherish. When I walk into my childless bedroom, the crystal candle holders, the soft lighting, the enormous plush bed gaping open at the sight of me. This is my space, our adult room. Sure, there's a collection of stuffed animals tucked into the closet, and my make up drawer hasn't been organized since my first daughter could walk. But I'll take the good with the bad and manage to keep the floor beside my bed clear of legos and baby dolls.
And then, Halloween happened. And for three nights running, my FIVE year old has come running into my room at various ungodly hours of the night crying and yelping to climb in our bed. WTF??? All my careful planning, years of discipline, what about the "No Kids in Bed" Rule??? And now I share my cozy bed space with a 55 pound body blanket.
Last night was the last straw, 1:40 in the friggin morning and here come the whimpering cries and pitter patter of five year old feet. And suddenly we're wrestling each other at the edge of my bed.
"Shelby, you cannot sleep in my bed tonight!" blocking her path with my open arms.
She ducks around me and continues a frantic crawl up the side of the mattress.
"Shelby! Come on! Let's go back into your bed. Sissy's in there, you're not alone, it's okay.... (she's still crawling in place with my hand on her forehead-realizing I need to up my ante, I groan) I'll come lie down with you."
No luck. She's determined to make it into my bed and she's not listening to a word I'm whispering.
So, in frustration, I remove myself from her path and begin my slow trudge toward her twin sized bed. Hoping she'll follow.
But before I get there, I stop for a potty break and settle onto the cold seat while I listen to John try to reason with her from our bed.
"Shelby," he says through clenched teeth, "you cannot keep coming into our bed. You're a big girl. You need to go back to your room. Mommies already in there."
Next thing I know we're having a family party in the bathroom while Shelby continues crying and whining about wanting to get in our bed.
John makes his move to lift her into his arms and deliver her to her own bed when she goes completely boneless. Her entire body flops onto the floor in an effective five year old tantrum complete with loud crying. It's dark, it's cold.
It's 1:45 in the morning, for goodness sakes. WHAT IS GOING ON!!?!?!?!
After what seems like hours of grappling to get her into her own bed, I lie down beside her in the dark and ask, "What's the matter with your bed? Why do you keep coming into my room?"
More whimpering.
"There's a vulture in the corner over there, Mommy."
OHHHHH. Okay, that vulture right over there behind your door is the reason your dad and I haven't gotten any sleep for three days?!?! Well, lemme just give that vulture a piece of my mind, shall I?
I mean, really. With no cable, no TV, and a limited opportunity for exposure to anything inappropriate, apparently one trip to Halloween Headquarters, a few night walks around the neighborhood and suddenly I have ginormous feathered fowl in our house. I fully intend to address that horrid beast tonight BEFORE we turn out the lights. And I'm crossing my fingers that Halloween Fairy skips our house tonight so we can all get some sleep. Get lost VULTURE!!!
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