It's a little after 2 a.m. and for the third time since falling asleep hours ago, I'm startled awake, this time by the familiar tickle of hair against the side of my face. Although I find a small bit of reassurance in this, I'm grateful it wasn't an elbow to the rib cage or finger poke to the kidney.
I keep telling the 'Rents that it won't always be like this — all (three of us) in the same bed — that this is "just a season," and that one day we'll all look back on this time in our lives and laugh. Parents love to hear that kind of stuff. But I don't think they're buying it.
If you haven't already guessed, it's true: I sleep with my parents and I'm not afraid to admit it!
I know what you're thinking. Surely, I could pack up and high tail it to that adorably decorated "toddler's room" down the hall, but where's the fun in sleeping all alone? It's a cold, desolate wasteland down there, not to mention that the mattress is much firmer and the room lies directly across from my older brothers and others. That's prime territory for intruders, which means it's the first room to fall under siege when that angry wolf comes looking for sweet, innocent little Red Riding Hood and I'm much too cute to be wolf bait.
Hence, why I sleep with my parents. Come try and get me now, Mr. Wolf!
I attempt to roll over and get comfortable once again. But as I peer through the sheets and kick off the covers, I know I'm right where I belong. In the comfort of the parental's room!
I scoot far left and cuddle up against what can only be described as a volcano on the verge of erupting. Nothing else can explain the heat emanating from this side of the bed or the deep, snoring growl that reverberates inside my head. I feel like I'm sleeping against a flaming hot slab of solid muscle with tiny hairs that poke at me through my jammies.
The right side of the bed is far softer, much more plush and cozy. It feels like I'm cuddling up against the plushness of a soft teddy bear, it's so worth it to seek such comfort. Not to mention that if I happen to need a snack in the middle of the night, it's right there at my disposal — an all-you-can-eat buffet of sorts thanks to my Mamma!!
And to think, my parents want to kick me out of this all-inclusive resort! I'm really not asking for much, just a little extra space to stretch my tired and weary little self out.
Don't they know that it's imperative that I get my beauty sleep before tackling a day full of errands and playdates? My dashing good looks don't come easy, and they know I can be a bear if I haven't gotten enough sleep. Not to mention that I think I've memorized every nook and cranny in our home to hide cellphones and remotes. And, have you ever tried doing the "Peek-A-Boo" on just four hours of sleep? I didn't think so.
I don't think I'm being unrealistic: All I want is for them to remain on their respective sides of the bed between the hours of 9 p.m. and 5 a.m. (What can I say, I'm an early riser!)
Sharing a bed this far into the game (15 months) was unexpected and I know my days here are numbered. But I can't help but share my thoughts on the whole bed-sharing thing. If I get wind of one more Facebook status update blaming us... they've got it all wrong. We're the victims of crappy, hindered sleep! We just aren't old enough to have our own Facebook accounts.
I am glad, however, that after several months of playing "Musical Beds" they've realized just how much easier it is to just leave me here and give me my space.
Who says you can't teach your old parents new tricks?
*Where your child sleeps is a personal decision. If you choose to co-sleep, please visit the American Pediatric Association for guidelines.