Sleep

When I was first married, one of my bosses gave me a piece of advice.  It went something like this "Don't let your kids sleep in bed with you.  If they wake up in the middle of the night and come in your room, have them sleep in sleeping bag on the floor."

At the time, I wasn't real sure of the advice.  Of course, 11 years and 4 kids later, I totally get it.  It is a rare night that we don't have a visitor.  Majority of the time it is EG.  But, when it isn't EG it is one of the others.

EG has never been a good sleeper.  The reason why is, I just needed sleep so we developed some bad habits, early.  I would lay down with her or sleep on the couch with her.  I didn't care where we were (neither did she) I just wanted sleep.

Three and a half years later, my thought process is much the same, I just want to sleep.  When we moved her into a "big girl bed" which consists of a mattress on the floor of the girls room she slept through the night a couple of nights.

Then she started waking up again and depending on the time, like if it was after 3 or 4, she would crawl in bed with us because hubby and I would be getting up in a couple hours any way.  If she came in before then, I would walk her back to her room and lay down with her for about an hour.  She would fall asleep (and I would too only to wake up an hour later to go back to bed.)

Not an ideal situation, but it was working for us.  Then one night, I just decided if and when she came into our room I was just going to let her sleep with us.  (When the bigger kids do, they sleep on the floor, which is very rare.)  Everything I have read and been taught and have done was never THAT.  I am a huge proponent of having kids sleep in their own beds, all night, every night.

But, I also liked the sleep.

I started to think what am I going to do about this?  A habit is formed.  An expectation is now developed. I am doing the exact thing I said I would never do.  Then, two or three early mornings ago, in the darkness of our room, while my baby girl was trying to settle herself down to go back to sleep, she reached out and held my hand.

She is my baby.  I am certain there will be none after her.  Her young years will go by so fast and when I look back, the nights she cuddled with me and held my hand will be but a sweet memory.  Right or wrong, it is the way it is.  And most nights, I cherish the time . . .