I made every mistake in the book regarding sleep with my first baby 13 years ago, including succumbing to sleep training that I never wanted to do. I’m not anti-sleep training. It’s just not for me. But because everyone told me I had to do it, I sat outside her room while she screamed at the top of her lungs and I sobbed with my head in my hands.
We were both traumatized.
It still haunts me and I am mad at myself for not just doing things my own way and instead feeling like I had to match other’s expectations about what motherhood looks like.
She is the kid that wouldn’t go to sleep for many years unless I laid with her and sometimes it took hours. It was exhausting mentally and physically, but we made it
I was a little better with my second and didn’t make the mistake of co-sleeping just to bypass arduous bedtime shenanigans.
Relatively speaking, she’s my better sleeper (even though we have to lay with her too until she falls asleep, just not as long ).
Lately she’s started to come in our room in the middle of the night sporadically.
She did it last night and I told her to get back in bed and I’d be right there.
I laid with her as she burrowed into me and asked her what was wrong. With that quivery voice holding back some tears she said , “nothing, I just wanted you.”
I wanted my own bed.
But she wanted me and I stayed, all night.
I decided that no matter how annoying it may feel to do the musical beds thing, if my kids want me, I want to be there. Maybe it’s them manipulating. But maybe there’s something in their little hearts and minds that just wants their mama.
It’s draining to be “wanted” all the time, isn’t it? As I wade in the turbulent waters of mothering a teen, I also know that those moments become fewer and fewer. So if they want me, I’m going to be there to get those snuggles. My under eye circles will be worse, and I might even be crankier in the morning, but I just have this feeling in my gut telling me to soak it up.
I also realize that my husband is going to read this and just look at me, with a knowing smirk, every time someone wakes up looking for company. I’m a sucker. But at least I’m a sucker who does motherhood her way.