Baby Goes Bump!

This weekend we went to Papa’s and Wawa’s cottage (Grandpa and Grandma. I am not sure if she actually says Wawa, but it sounds like something similar.  The problem is that there are several words that sound like wawa… grandma, water, and umbrella. So if all three are around, it’s your guess what the hell she’s talking about.)

The cottage was full, so O had to share the room with us. She was in her play pen, and we were sleeping in twin beds. The twin beds are oddly really close to the ground.  They were technically bunk beds, but my parents pulled off the bunk part, so now instead of 4 twin beds, there are only 2 twin beds.

Side bar about twin beds.  I have to say that twin beds for married couples are seriously underrated.  I think the 50s and 60s Doris Day and Rock Hudson movies had it right.  There is something really, I don’t know, relaxing or a guarantee good night sleep because no one will steal your covers or pillow, or roll into you with an elbow in the ribs.

She of course went to bed early.  As we were in the room hours later getting ready for bed, she woke up, and damanded that I pick her up. So I do, and I put her in the bed with me.  Here is the problem with the twin bed.  Too tiny to add a toddler to. At first she just sleeps with my arm around her.  Then she starts tossing and turning.  Her feet end up in my face, and I’m scared she going to fall off.  I offer to put her back in her crib, but she says, No, Mommy, No. Bed! (pointing to my bed) So I take her back, and I take one of the pillows DH has discarded on the floor, and I put it on the floor between the bed and the wall, just in case O rolls off the bed.  And I fall asleep. I have no idea how long I sleep for before I wake myself up and realize there is no fatty next to me. I pat around the bed (because in this neck of the woods, you have the blackest night you’ve ever seen), and nothing.  Then I reach down, and O is sleep on the pillow on the floor. I consider for a second if I should leave her there, but I decide against it in case she rolls under the bed. It would be much harder to get her out. I pick her up, she is pretty much passed out and I put her in her play pen.  And she sleeps the rest of the night.

She doesn’t appear to be scarred for life.  She seems OK.

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About RidgewoodMom

Thirtysomething mom of a baby girl. First and only baby, possibly. First baby amongst my close friends. These are the trials, frustrations and lessons I have learned in raising a single child in New York.
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