Snow Angels

I want to make snow angels in my bed. No, this is not code for getting it on. Literally, I want to make snow angels in my bed. Note, there is no we or us in that sentence. However, instead of making snow angels, I practice lying as motionless as possible on the very edge of the bed with one boob exposed for nursing purposes. Here is a diagram of what our house looks like at nighttime:








The following conditions must exist in order for all of us to be asleep: the zombies have robbed us of our souls. Except for Robert, he can sleep under any circumstance, even a zombie apocalypse. Usually what happens in our house at night is like a game (a warped, twisted game where NO one wins) of dominos. First, one of us will wake up, say Max.

"Mommy! Water!!!" He will yell, and thrash his arms and legs (think crazy hyper snow angel). Attempting not to move any unnecessary muscles for fear of waking up Maeve, I say, "Shhhhhhhh! Here!" I grab his sippy cup off the nightstand and toss it in his general direction. But of course Maeve wakes up despite my efforts and cries, "nur nur!" (aka put the boob back in my mouth right now!!!). This in turn prompts me to look over at Robert's side of the bed to find him conveniently missing, so then I scream, "Robert!!! Get in bed!" Usually this kind of scene happens at least three times before he actually "hears" me and comes up the stairs. When he does climb into bed, I'm so tortured from being woken up every ten minutes that I say, "What took you so long?! Do you think that parenting ends at bedtime??? Hahahahaha, NOT in our house." I actually sometimes laugh in a terrifying, out-of-control kind of way. Robert usually says nothing, which is an extremely smart decision.

Co-sleeping (which I now consider to be a form of indentured servitude) didn't start out like this. It started out in a love-struck and very sweet kind of way.








It all made so much sense. I wanted to breastfeed exclusively for the first few months, loved snuggling with my baby Max, and was way too lazy to get out of bed, walk down the hall, sit up in a CHAIR in the middle of the night, and nurse my baby that way. Everyone was a winner! Don't we look so peaceful in these pictures? Don't we look deep in restful slumber?

We did not intend this to be a long-term situation. In fact, Max had a lovely nursery.




But both Robert and I grew to love having Max right there with us, and the thought of putting him in a crib in a room all by himself seemed barbaric and emotionless. I researched our unconventional sleep habits and found out that what we were doing was actually quite stylish. When people asked why in the world our baby slept with us, we would say, somewhat dismissively, "Um, it's called attachment parenting." That usually shut people up pretty quickly. This is the only time Max was ever in his crib:




So, I ask myself, what happened? How did co-sleeping change from tranquilly easy to exasperatingly difficult? Well, baby Max grew into toddler and then preschool Max and we had the bright idea of having baby #2 (but oh, how we love her so dearly). Instead of moving baby #1 out of the bed before baby #2 arrived, we figured that, kind of like chocolate, the more the merrier! And so, our "family bed" was born.
I did not even waste the time or money to decorate a nursery for Maeve. We had even gotten rid of our crib. The only thing in her "room" is a changing table.




The wallpaper border is of famous golf courses (it came free with the house!). It feels very inspiring. I did hang up a purple glittery M earring holder. That has been the extent of my efforts.

Now, I'm not saying that the family bed has been completely hellish for us. There have been a lot of very cute moments. I try to take lots of pictures of these moments so that I have something to look at when I'm awake at 3 am.












However, if you look VERY closely, you will notice that BEFORE baby #2, there is a very content and (key word here) sleeping parental body in the picture, whereas AFTER baby #2, there is the distinct absence of any sleeping parental body. This would be because I'm never sleeping and Robert is passed out on the couch with Duck Dynasty playing WAY too loud on the TV. And I HATE that show, by the way.

So, what's the solution? Easy! Put Max into his own room, night wean Maeve, and put her in a crib! My friends tell me about this idea all of the time, and I usually nod my head, and say, "I know, I know." I say this guiltily and have trouble making eye contact. It is embarrassing how many times I've complained about my sleeping situation and have heard such a simple answer.

But the problem is, I just can't do it. Maybe something inside of me still loves our family bed. Maybe I have some deep rooted fear of being separated from my children. Maybe I just like having something to bitch about.

Or maybe it's because I have a different idea of the perfect solution to my problem. I've drawn another diagram to illustrate my fantasy.






Yes, I'm making snow angels. And then, I promise, I'll go right to sleep.

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