I do not want to be smote by the sleeping gods by bragging, but I can hold it in no longer: Clementine has her own bed and has been sleeping (mostly alone) in it for the past three nights. We have been kicking this around for a little while, and although I think co-sleeping, accidental as it was at first, was a great choice for us for a long time, we had all outgrown it before Christmas. She was waking us up in the middle of the night and we were waking her up when we came to bed, and although I loved being able to hold her close and smell that sweet little head, I think the negatives were outweighing the positives. We went to IKEA some Saturday right before Christmas, and as we were wandering through the labyrinth of fiber-board furniture, we came across a low bed that was so inviting and enticing to Clementine, that she lept up in it, put her head down on the pillow and said “Shhhhhhh,” pretending to go to sleep. Sure, Nate and I hemmed and hawed about whether we could afford it, whether we should find something used or smaller, whether it was the right time, but in the end, how could we argue? We bought it (realizing immediately we had brought the wrong car to the store, meaning I was pinned beneath it the entire ride home and risked beheading), took it home and promptly…did nothing. We had so much to do for Christmas and so little time to do it that we waited until we returned from our epic travels to find a mattress, take down the crib and set up the bed.
But sure enough it did get done. I bought some sock monkey sheets (which are her new obsession since her grandma made her one we call
I’m pretty proud of this move, but I feel like I can’t quite shout it from the rooftops. It’s a big deal to me, but most other people can’t believe we still had her in our bed anyway. I wanted to tell my dad last night on the phone, but then I remembered my sister telling me that he grumbles about how useless the crib he got us was. I told my friends at work today, but then one accidentally outed me as a cosleeper at the lunch table and my boss, who already thinks I’m an insane doting mother, was visibly horrified and disturbed, citing how dangerous a practice it is. Will the shame never end? I need a meeting to attend—Cosleepers Anonymous, but even that implies that it’s something I want to get over. Sure, it’s done for us now and it’s the right thing at the right time, but I tell you one thing for sure—if we ever have another kid, we’re going to do it the same way. And I’m not just speaking out of my ass here: Nate totally agrees. One of my only mom friends (who has been mystified by my cosleeping) called me last night, and when I said “I have some very exciting news to share with you,” she immediately countered with “Oh my gosh! You’re pregnant.” Heck, lady. I just got my bed back—how do you think something like that would happen so soon?
Knowing me, you are no dount wondering where the heck the pictures of the new bed are. Shouldn't I have taken about a hundred by now, including some fancy night shots of her sleeping soundly in it? The truth is that my camera is BROKEN. And I have to send it in to have it fixed, and it might take a few months and I have to send a check with the camera, which I couldn't do until after Christmas so I didn't accidentally bounce ANOTHER check. Yikes. So I'm going to have to find a way to borrow a camera from school or something because I really feel like I'm missing an arm without my camera. As it happens my awesome school camera is also having trouble and only the zoom lens works. Maybe I can take some very close up shots of the bed. Or maybe I can stand very far away and shoot it. Hmm.Before I dash off to a very important meeting (voice dripping with sarcasm here), I want to say to my cousin and sister who have included me in a little meme thing that I’m not ignoring you. Seeing as I write a heck of a lot down here on this blog, there’s not a lot people don’t know about me. Especially you, sissy. But here are some things I’m thinking not everyone remembers about me. Or maybe they never knew them. Or maybe they don’t care. Whatever. And I’m not putting “I’m a cosleeper” here because…guess what?...I’m not! Well, not really anyway.
- I am a published poet who has seriously fallen off the wagon. There are very few people in my life these days that remember the time when I was a poet first and everything else second. That makes me sad, especially because I was surrounded by poets and poetry less than five years ago. I fear not being able to get back into poetry and then spending my life regretting it.
- I feel very comfortable with most of my musical tastes, but I secretly can’t stop listening to or singing “Fergalicious.” Or “Sexy Back.” If you don’t know who sings these songs that you are much hipper than I.
- I am poised to become a totally amazing snowboarder (even though I’ve never done it before) if we ever get some snow. Seriously, I feel drawn to it and think I’m going to kick some serious ass. I’ve been practicing in my living room.
- I have always dreamed about living in Texas, a state that celebrates the big and tacky in everything. My business trip there next week is exciting because I have a chance to see some friends but also chill out and imagine moving there.
- I’ve put on quite a bit of weight since I stopped breastfeeding, which is one of the reasons I was able to last so long—I KNEW this would happen and would have gone on pumping forever so I could keep eating ice cream if only it were a little easier.
- I always paint my toenails blue. When I remember to paint them. Which isn’t so frequent these days.
3 comments:
I know who sings both of those songs and I am way hipper than you still!
No one likes Texas.
Now I have SexyBack stuck in my head! (I love it, and I so don't care if I'm not hip :) ) and I must confess, I too, am a co-sleeper, oh the shame..
Not so hip here - don't know either song.
What's the update on the sleeping task? As you know I am so anti co-sleeping and this is not because of the dangers or the concept but because I am totally selfish and need my sleep, space and sanity!
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