Before I start this post, you need to know that there is no fine print. I have done this to myself and I take full responsibility for creating the nightmare I am in (with both kids and my Husband).
Jimmy was our first born. And I breast fed for two years...I know that's a really long time. And those who know me, know how much I like to sleep so new first baby + paranoid new mom + loving my shuteye = Jimmy slept with us. Jimmy slept with us for FIVE years. My fault.
Swore up and down and sideways that the second baby would NOT be sleeping with us. Because, I learned my lesson. Besides, this was the second child and I wasn't anywhere near as paranoid. Guess what? This one, the Doodle, slept with us too. How about the Doodle was such a light sleeper I didn't dare move him to put him in his crib or bassinet because he would wake up and SCREAM and since he was a much harder baby I wasn't chancing it? I'm still not sure where they got the term, "sleeping like a baby" because I'd have to disagree with that one. He would sleep in his swing or with us, never in his crib. Ever.
Fast forward to a year and a half ago when the Doodle started having seizures; and I had to monitor him 24/7. He's still a bad sleeper and now he's been programmed. He won't go to sleep now without me in the bed at night time; so it's 100% on me to get him to go to sleep. Even if I can get him to sleep, he wakes up periodically and reaches for me and if I'm not there, I get a scream from him.
Jim can lay down with him, but there is no guarantee he will go to sleep. Does this limit what I can and can't do in the night time? Absolutely. It is now MY job to go to bed with the 3 year old, yep. Jim likes to play the "work" card. What's that you say? Oh that's right, I work full time ALSO. Hmmmm. What ever happened to equality? Sharing the load and all that jazz? He gets his breaks when he goes out of town, he gets to sleep Doodle free and make his own bedtime whenever he wants and watch grown up tv. I guess, I'd just like it when he was home if there was some systematic way to split it up. What are we in 1950? Am I some kind of stay at home mom whose sole job is to take care of the kids and keep the house? How about some fairness? How about, let me go upstairs a night or two and sleep in Jimmy's room, all by myself stretched out without a hot little sweaty body stuck to me, kicking me and pulling my hair all night.
I used to be a night owl, my whole life I would stay up late, it's when I would read, write, watch a movie or do my projects. Sometimes I just lay there, staring at the clock thinking of all the things I could be getting done.
The best part of the story is, Jimmy feels left out. He wants to be near us because the Doodle is so he plays us like a deck of cards and makes us feel guilty about wanting to sleep downstairs in our room. Oh Gosh No, for heavens sake, he is NOT sleeping in our bed, at least. He sleeps on long leather chaise lounge in our room--grinding his teeth loudly.
Part of me is frustrated and ready to get a room at the Quality Inn because having two kids in your room every night is not fun. Or normal. But then again, we aren't "normal". Then the other part, the sentimental side of me is thinking, in 5 years I will miss it and I will look back on these years and remember how close we all were sleeping in the same freaking bedroom and how even though no one got any sleep and Jimmy has chronic back problems it was kind of nice in a creepy way. The Doodle is my last hurrah. No more babies for me at 42, I was fixed or spayed (or whatever you call it) so I don't have to worry about making this mistake again.
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