Family Magazine

Why Won’t They Let Me Sleep?

By Mediocremom @mediocre_mom

I have a friend who did the family bed/co-sleeping thing. It worked out beautifully for them. I’m of the mindset that if you want to try out some parenting “technique” and it works out, you should do it. By the way, all those parenting techniques? The short-term for them is…parenting.

Anyway, I never did it. I was all, “Welcome to the world, baby. Two things: I love you more than anything else in the universe. Also, I really like to sleep, so we’re gonna work on that, k?”

I just like sleep. And I’m a terrible sleeper. I wake up anywhere from 5-dozens of times a night. I need to get to bed early if I actually want to rest enough to function the next day, because laying down and sleeping 6 straight hours will never happen.

Notice I said 6, because the idea of 8 is one held only by the science community and people without children. Or sleep disorders. Or insomnia. Actually, I’m pretty sure the only people getting 8 hours are college kids who can sleep until noon. Jerks.

That being said, I’m a sucker for night-time snuggles. Especially Smush. The Nerd and I are both hopelessly in love with her, and it’s a rare treat when she’ll actually just cuddle. Because of this, we were totally okay with her early morning snuggle routine that developed over the past couple months. She wakes up around 6:00, and then sneaks into our bed for snuggle time.

And by sneaks, I mean climbs over me with the enthusiasm and dedication of a climber conquering Everest for the first time.

First it was 6:00 AM. Then it was 5:30. We were still okay with that, because she fell back asleep between us and babies sleeping between you is wonderful for very brief periods of time.

Then it was 5:00 AM. Now you’re pushing it, kid.

Last night she crawled into bed with me before the Nerd had even made it to bed. It was probably 11:00. I make really bad decisions when I’m sleep-deprived, so I let her.

She proceeded to spend the remainder of the night kicking, pushing, and generally flailing with such force that I’m surprised I don’t have any contusions. By 4:30 AM, my pillow was hanging off the edge of the bed, along with most of me, as she assumed what I will lovingly refer to as, “the starfish,”  in the middle of the bed.

The Starfish.

The Starfish.

I put up with this for a while. By the time I bothered to check the time, it was 4:30 AM. I was rapidly running out of time for my sweet, sweet sleep. No matter, I could still get in a good hour before the day kicked off.

I focused. Yes, I have to focus to fall asleep because intently listening to the sound of my own breathing is the only way I can turn off Mom Brain. I relaxed. I pulled the covers up, and settled in. One hour, I can still get one good hour.

And as I slowly drifted off to sleep, Smush jolted and struck me with a force so powerful, I can only liken it to the strength of Thor’s hammer. In the face. With her hand clenched like a fist.

Needless to say, I did not sleep. Also needless to say, ninja snuggles are not going to be a thing. Nice try, Smush.


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