Monday, March 12, 2012

A Hard Day's Night

My daughter is exactly two and a half years old today. It took 912 days, but it finally happened. I finally did the one thing I said I’d never do as a parent. Granted, there were a lot of things I said I’d never do, but this was the one that after having actually become a parent, I thought I had a real shot of standing my ground on.

Thumper slept in my bed last night.

It’s not my fault. Really. Well, if by ‘my fault’ you mean that I’m the one who said “Why don’t you come sleep in mommy and daddy’s bed?” then yes it’s my fault but I surely can’t be blamed for how fitful my sickly daughter’s sleep was or the fact that she just wanted some cuddles.

It’s not that I care if other people co-sleep with their kids. It’s just that I could never do that on a consistent basis for the following reasons: I love my own sleep too much, I don’t sleep well with Thumper in the same bed, and I am the kind of woman who simply may hurt everyone in sight cannot function if I don’t sleep right. And I was always afraid that if I broke down once or twice, it would be too hard to make Thumper understand that sleeping in our bed was the exception, not the rule.

Even as a tiny baby, we never really let Thumper sleep with us. Sometimes I’d bring her in our bed for a little while in the early mornings, but mostly just because I was trying to squeeze in another hour or two of sleep. Which was kind of stupid because between worrying that I was going to crush her, wanting my own space, and waking up every time she breathed, I tended to not get much sleep out of it.

So why did I invite my daughter to sleep with me last night? I’m not sure. I couldn’t quite believe it when the words came out. I just know that after having checked on her a few times and seeing the discomfort on her face even while she was still asleep, I thought she could benefit from some cuddles.

Luckily, the cuddles she craved were from her daddy so I sort of managed to get some sleep. Unlucky for him, Dawson spent most of the night sleeping on the edge of our king-sized bed. Unlucky for me, Thumper woke up at 6 a.m. when Dawson got up to shower and wouldn’t go back to sleep.

Have I created a monster? Probably. Am I going to suffer the consequences of my actions when trying to put her to bed tonight? Maybe. Will I break down again? I have no clue. Hopefully I’ll remember the early morning wakeup call and leave Thumper in her own bed.


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