This is how, this is how, this is how we sleep.

{bonus points if you sang the title of this post to the tune of 'this is why I'm hot'}

Sleeping in this house must be either hilarious, or super weird to people who don't know us, or parents who had their babes in their beautiful nurseries and thousand dollar cribs from the day they were born. As many of you know, I'm a co-sleeper. My kids slept in my bed with me from the time they were babies, and Jackson still hasn't given it up.

Often times Lainie comes in to sleep with us too, and since I moved Jackson's bed into my room between my bed and the wall, there's plenty of room, so why not.

Plus her and I read after Jackson falls asleep, and I just love glancing over at her in between chapters, us looking at each other over the tops of our respective books and sharing a late night readers smile.

It's a sweet moment.

Co-Sleeping is not all cuddles and books and giggles in the dark though.

Some of it is downright unglamorous, and if you don't do a sweep of the bed for small trucks and Lego pieces before hopping in, it can get pretty ugly.

Co-Sleeping is probably more accurately described as a hot tangled mess of knees, elbows, and heavy, solid as a rock toddler heads that they throw around the pillow space like confetti.

Have you ever taken a four year old cranium to the nose at 2 in the morning? 

The other night while the kids were sleeping amid a pile of twisted sheets and blankets and cuddlies and stuffed animals and God knows what else, I snapped a few shots with my camera because I was practicing using it in Manual.

The next day, the bed was made and the room was clean and I couldn't get over the stark contrast of everything when there weren't three people crammed together, snoring away.

This is the bed in the daylight hours when it's made and the room is clean and no kids have set foot near it yet:

Yes, that is a pile of kid laundry on Jackson's bed. That's not the point. Observe the calm serenity of my bed, with it's organized pillows and smooth comforter, everything clean and inviting you to lie down.

And now, this is the bed with the two of them in it:

That big lump in Jackson's bed is actually Lainie, covered up to the top of her head in his blanket. Jackson is next to her on my bed, and that space beside him is where I'm supposed to sleep.

Right next to his big, 100 pound melon that will no doubt come flying back into my face, somewhere around 3 in the morning.

Notice the third pillow kicked down by the foot of the bed, the bright blue bathrobe that Jackson likes to hold at night because it's soft, and the general disarray of the bedding.

I guarantee you there are at least 4 Hot Wheels cars somewhere under that fluffy white blanket.

This is the life we choose, the life we lead.

This is how we sleep.