We took down Peyton’s crib a few months ago and bought her a beautiful new bed.
She’s slept in it a whopping zero times.
Addy’s bedroom set belonged to my mom when she was a little girl. She passed it down to me and I used it until I was 26 and moved out of my parents’ house and into a townhouse I bought with Peter. My furniture went in one of our spare bedrooms, and I’d sleep in that tiny twin bed whenever I was sick, or when Peter’s snoring was disrupting my sleep. Before Peyton was born, we moved Addy out of her crib and into the big-girl bed I grew up in.
My bed (well, our bed) is a king — our mattress is super soft and cushy and cozy. It’s comfy to sleep, watch TV and read on. There’s plenty of room in it for both me and Peter to sleep far enough away from each other — I like my space.
In the last, let’s say, three months, I’ve slept in my bed — from closing my eyes to waking up the next morning — maybe 10 times. (It’s a good thing I’m used to my old bed, since that’s where I spend my nights.)
Everyone starts out in our bed — it’s a habit we’re having a tough time kicking. Addy often falls asleep first on her pillow between me and Peter. Peyton eventually passes out, usually sprawled across me or Peter, or at the bottom of our bed. At some point (usually at around 10:30 or 11 p.m. when we’re finishing up whatever show we’re watching before we hit the hay), Peter will “try” to move Addy to her own bed. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. On the nights it works, I might get a few hours of sleep in my own comfy, cozy bed until Addy walks into our room, pillow in hand, and pushes her way into the middle of the bed and drapes her legs, arms, whatever, all over me. That’s generally my cue to grab my pillows and head to her room. On the nights moving her doesn’t work (when Peter picks her up and she sleepily mumbles, “No, Daddy. I want to cuddle with you and Mommy”), he puts her back down in our bed, and I give up my spot, grab my pillows and, once again, head to her room. In the meantime, Peyton flips and flops all over the place, sometimes falling off the bed in the night. Peter snores through most of this activity.
I’ve told Addy that four-year-olds should sleep in their beautiful pink rooms at night, then come into their mommy and daddy’s bed in the morning to cuddle. I’ve also told her that mommies and daddies are supposed to sleep together, not Addys, Peytons and daddies. Lastly, I’ve told her she’s a massive bed hog and that I want my damn bed back.
I’ve tried to have “sleepovers” with her in her bed (so I could sneak out at some point the way my mom used to). I’ve also encouraged the kids to have sleepovers in Peyton’s bed. Those sleepovers generally last 10 minutes before they’re both back in my room.
In the meantime, I find myself in Addy’s bed most nights, sometimes I doze on the couch while working late, sometimes I sleep on the floor in my bedroom, and sometimes I get a sliver of my bed and wake up with my pillows on the night table or my rear-end almost touching the floor.
Last night, Peter was unsuccessful in moving Addy, and she seemed to have a cough, so I left her in my bed and went to hers. I forgot to unplug her nightlight, and woke up at some point in the early, early morning to find it on. I also found a hot dog from the kids’ kitchen set that I was sleeping on, and a piece of junk mail that came in our door that Addy kept and — apparently — hid in her bed because it was a “special delivery.”
Needless to say, now that I’m no longer taking my sleeping pills, I sometimes have a tough time falling asleep — especially when I’m up in the middle of the night. All of this moving from bed to bed, and interrupted sleep, is causing me to get a bit, um, grouchy, and not as productive during the day. I’m alone and working at home right now, mere feet away from my beloved bed, and it’s calling to me — “No one’s here. Sleep on Peter’s side. Sleep on your side. Sleep in the middle. Go on, do it. You know you want to. Grab a nap. Go get your pillows from the kid’s room, get under the covers and be close your eyes…” Maybe I should. At least I won’t find a knee in my butt, my head on my night table, an arm across my head, feet in my stomach.
What’s the sleeping situation like in your house? How often do you play musical beds?
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