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.

The Friday Diary-On Saturday

Hello world!

First off, I would like to say, ohholyfuck I missed blogging. Seriously. 

Next time I move, internet WILL be on in the new place before I move in. 

Lesson learned. Modern conveniences: 1 Sarah: 0

Anyway. 

What have I missed since I've been gone?!

Someone please clue me in on the goings on of the universe. 

Also, and probably more importantly, what have YOU missed in my life?! 

See how important I think I am?

You missed this:

We haven't brought out TV over yet, and we didn't have cable or internet anyway, so I've been listening to a TON of music. Right now this song has creeped into my bloodstream and won't get out:

...

Thanks to Bill, and the fact that my new house is strategically located just down the street from Culvers, I now have a new addiction:

Culvers, bitch. It beats In and Out burger, hands freaking down, especially if you add grilled onions and Thousand Island to it.
Although they don't call that Animal style, which makes it slightly less fun.

...

On Sunday, we spent out very first night in our new house. It was scary.
The house isn't old, but it talks, like all houses do. Settling and creaking in the night, and making all kinds of fantastic noises that make me nearly pee the bed.
But we made the best of it, eating celebratory steak and mac and cheese for dinner

And enjoying nice hot baths in my new amazing bath tub:

Lainie and Jack were so tuckered out from moving, they both passed out promptly by 5:45 at night. 

Success. 

...

For those of you who remember our co-sleeping struggles, you should be happy to hear that Jackson has been sleeping {most of the night} in his new big boy bed!!

Those blankets glow in the dark. 

Fantastic.

...

On Thursday, after a very long and exhausting week of moving and entertaining kids without the aid of a TV or internet, I decided I deserved a little break.

So I threw myself a one man party:

Yes. I dipped my Oreos in Nutella. Judge me, I dare you. 

...

I've also been reading a great deal. I read two books in one week, in fact. Dancer with Bruised Knees by Lynn McFall, and Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston. 

I absolutely loved the former, and was just OK with the latter. 

All in all, it's been a long and tiring but ultimately really good week. 

Monday Momisms: Our Co-Sleeping Journey

When I first had Lainie, I had her little crib all set up with cute little blankets and bumpers and even a sweet little teddy bear tucked into the corner that would watch over her whilst she slept. I had the nicest fantasies of her sleeping peacefully in her beautiful, luxury bed, fit for any princess. 

The crib was in my room, only a few feet from my bed and at the time I really thought that was the closest to co-sleeping that I was ever going to get. 

Boy was I wrong.

After bringing her tiny-ness home from the hospital, all fragile and demanding, I was shit scared pretty much 24-7, and nothing heightened my new mom anxiety like not having her within 6 inches of my grasp. Add to that the difficulties of learning how to breastfeed every random hour of the night that she decided she was hungry, and I was basically a big pile of sleepy, scared nerves. 

Within 2 nights she was in my bed, sleeping sound beside me and night nursing on her side like a pro. 

Everyone was blissfully happy.

She continued to sleep with me through most of her toddlerhood, until she was about 3, at which point she was all about her own bed, and only took naps in my bed with me.

Flash forward to when I had Jackson.

He was my second baby and Lainie was 4 and a half. I knew enough by then to know I needed my sleep, and I had these wonderful memories of how easy co-sleeping made my life when Lainie was a baby, and this delusional idea that all kids stopped co-sleeping as easily as Lainie did. Naturally, I would co-sleep with Jackson as well.

In the beginning, it worked out great. We slept snuggled up together and his chubby warmth made me all blissed out all night long, and night nursing couldn't have been easier. 

When he was 2, he started sleeping in his own bed seemingly as easily as Lainie did. 

I was quite smug about my co-sleeping success stories.

Until now. 

Jackson is now 3, almost 4, and has always been a big boy. 

See?

That picture is from April, 2010, before the sleeping giant even turned 2. He was ginormous. 

Notice however, that he is in his own bed.

Success.

Somewhere along the lines though, in 2010, he started getting up every night around 3 in the morning and standing in his crib crying until I came and got him. Nothing would soothe him except getting in my bed with me. And I mean nothing. The kid would outright wail, sobbing uncontrollably at the top of his lungs, whether I held him, rocked him, sang to him or left him to cry it out, until I put him in my bed. 

As soon as his head hit my pillow, he was back out like a light.

I was working full time and it was such an easy solution: just let him get in your bed at 3 a.m. and he goes right back to sleep. It seemed so much better than trying to battle it out every single night and force him to sleep alone.

So I did. 

And when he was big enough to take the side off his crib, he would get up, stumble across the hall to my bedroom, and snuggle in beside me, every night, at exactly 3 a.m.

To be honest, I probably could've fought him harder, but he didn't move around much, he was a sound sleeper, and I had a whole bed to myself. I won't deny either that I really loved the cuddle time it provided us, and the happy, giggling baby I woke up to each morning.

Again, until now. 

Jackson is even bigger now, and his nightly ritual of getting in my bed at 3 a.m. has turned into a nightly need to be in my bed from the time he goes down, until he wakes up. He's bigger, he moves more, and he's recently taken up this really cute habit of sleep fighting the shit out of me until I am in a terrified ball in the corner of the bed with no blanket. 

It's bullshit. 

I'm not sleeping as well, and aside from that, he won't go to sleep until I get in bed with him. So when I put him to bed at 8, he often lays there and cries until either I get in bed too, or he cries himself to sleep, sometimes over an hour later. 

It's heart breaking, and it stresses me way out to hear him sobbing upstairs while I'm trying to finish the laundry or do the dishes or eat some ice cream in peace for the love of God!

As I type this, at exactly 10:06 p.m. he lays beside me thrashing around like a wild honey badger, and I am already anticipating a sleepless night and a bruised ribbed morning. 

Sadly, the co-sleeping has to stop. 

I've gotten suggestions all over the board, from letting him cry it out {which at his current age and stubbornness level can take half the night} to putting a little twin bed between my bed and the wall, and pushing him over onto that once he falls asleep. Not a bad idea, but I'm not sure it's right for me.

At this point I am not sure what I'm going to do but I need to do something. My sleep is damn precious to me and I feel like I'm cuddling up to a Russian war pony every time I lay down.

So to all the moms out there currently struggling with co-sleeping in one form or another, y'all, group hug. This shit is hard.

And to all the moms who had to endure my smug stories about how great co-sleeping is since Lainie was born, I am truly and deeply sorry. 

You had every right to punch me square in the taco.

Wish me luck.