The Truth Will Set You Free

A little dramatic? Maybe.  Will my confession be earth shattering? Probably not.  But I am learning from the best (O…the amount of booboos and ailments a 2-1/2 year old can have is amazing.  From her elbow, to her knee, to her butt, to her tummy, to her toe. All in one afternoon.)

Well, I’m sure you are already familiar with my need to have some sort of separate grown up sphere in my life (hence the need for O to sleep in her room, go to bed by 8 pm at the latest, etc.)  And you are also familiar with the battles we have had over the last years to keep O in her room.  Well I am here to admit that it’s not the case anymore.  We are just to exhausted to fight every night with her for hours of crying and screaming… Don’t worry, I still have boundaries. (I know…maybe too little too late…)

She still starts out in her room.  We read her story, she sleeps in her bed.  But then at either 11 pm or 1 am depending how tired she is, she waddles in our room.  Previously she used to just come in our bed, but I can not sleep like that. So I set up her cot, now a foamy bed, right next to my side of the bed, and I put her there. Hold her hand, and she falls asleep.  Sometimes, she climbs into our bed at maybe 5 am, or later.

The last few nights she’s been coming in at 11 pm. And I tell her to go bring her pillow and blanket, and she sets waddles to her room, grabs her pillow and blanket. Mommy, I bring all pillows. Ok, O. Then I help her set her bed, and she just goes to sleep.

Because of this, we have all been sleeping pretty well.  Or if not well, it doesn’t have anything to do with. However, if I’m not in a deep sleep, I do hear her talking in her sleep.

Please don’t judge me.  I need to sleep. The few weeks there when we were battling her every night, it was really really rough. I would come to work bleary eyed and cranky. Not a good combination.

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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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