I love my daughter. And she loves me. She is going through the stage of coming into our bed every night. Sometimes it at midnight, other times in the early hours of the morning.
Ideally, you the three of us would cosily snuggle up and sleep well. Actually, ideally she would stay in her bed all night.
Some nights I find myself clinging onto the edge of the bed like Sylvester Stallone in Cliffhanger, other times I feel like my head is wedged against a rock (her head), at times I wake up with cold shoulders : Miss 4 has manoeuvred herself out of the blanket because she is too hot. Other times I find a foot up my nose as she has moved sideways.
To circumvent a bad sleep, and either myself or my husband head for her bed. Sometimes we both get up and bump into each other as we fumble through the darkness. Other times we ‘discuss’ who is going to move.
The whole scenario is like a poorly choreographed slow dance in the middle of the night.
Every day, and we tell each other that ‘this is the last night’.
Blissfully unaware, Miss 4 sleeps on. And wakes up happy. And so it was all worth it… Until the next time.
Posted by deb_gs, 18th April 2015