The hand drawn artwork given to my wee girl from her aunt on her first birthday ~ for her bedroom wall.
In his wisdom, quite a few months ago, my beloved declared that we would all sleep better if the wee girl had her own bed; AND her own bedroom. My heart was not in agreeance and i dilly dallied... we would need to paint the wall (the previous owners had a very pink wall in the room earmarked ~ the only room left of three) and she would need new curtains and a block out blind...and it is so hot in there; a celing fan would need to be installed. Then of course what if people came to stay? where would they sleep? my stalling earned us a few more months of snuggled sleeplessness.
Unfortunately the wee girl does not value her own nor anyone else's sleep. Our big girl seemed genetically programmed from reasonably early on to love sleep. We lived in a cold climate when she was born and winter is grey and dark and very cold why get up when bed is so snug seemed to be her motto - and indeed snug as a wee bug between her mum, dad and her favourite black cat.
The big girl still sleeps in out bed for part of each night ~ all night if she can swindle it ~ the bed was rather cramped with the four of us even before the odd cat tried to join in. But even that was not it for her dad, it was the constant waking of the wee one, every two hours searching for a breastfeed for no other reason than she loves it... i was quite tired too (who am i kidding I AM quite tired) so after all the stalling, just before her first birthday her room was set up.
It also required: the dismantling of the bunk beds from her sister's room because she declared she wanted her old bed (the double wrought iron antique one with pretty ceramic roses) back in her room ~ it had been in the guest room until then. With the change of beds her room needed remodeling to suit, so a fair bit of furniture shifting and hole patching ensued. The cot, relatively unused needed to be pulled apart to get it into it's new room and one of the the bunk beds then set up as a single bed next to the cot.
Oh! how could i forget? with all the bed shifting we now had a single bed, it's mattress, ladder, guard rails and the cradle which had no where to go ~ tis ok my beloved, quite determined to have his bed back it would seem ~ built a loft in the garage to store it all!
So, the night came where no more stalling could i do and the wee girl went to sleep in her cot in a room down the corridoor from what was the family bed, i slept in there with her. The big girl and her dad slept in the 'big' bed. when the wee one woke we slept in the single bed together. So for me the venue changed and i now shared a single bed rather than a queen - the big girl and her dad slept in bliss with their arms and legs splayed.
Over the last couple of weeks I have made my way back to our bed for about half of each night (the first half), the big girl has occassionally slept in her own bed, my beloved has even slept in the single bed. All of us barr the wee one have slept in the big antique bed. Yet each morning i am still woken by little fingers twirling my hair and a little bah, bah, bah song.
I am really tired but the more I think about it the more i realise that sleeplessness, night feeding, bed sharing is really what you are willing to tolerate and for how long. I have read all the books and talked at length to loads of people about 'solutions'. The only one that sits well with me is waiting; waiting for her to grow and need me a little less. I love her soft little body against mine, I love her snuffly breathing just like i love my big girl's long arms and legs draped over me and the tickle of her hair on my face. I love the solid warmth of my husband and to be able to reach out and know he is there ~ why would a baby, a child or another adult love those things any less?