It was a busy weekend (as are they all, really). We had been talking for a while about getting Julianna into a larger bed in Jessie’s bedroom. Talking for a lot longer than we probably should have been, and not actually doing anything about it.
I’m a co-sleeper from way back. I slept with babies all my life, from my little sister to cousins to nieces and nephews. I loved babysitting, loved taking a kid for a weekend, and never had trouble sleeping with a little one next to me – and that was before I had my own kids. Once I had my own, and combined nursing with sleeping – it was a no-brainer. With Jessica, I had a crib for her (and it was lovely, pale purple and so sweet) and I diligently put her in it every night. At her first wake up, I’d just take her back to bed with us, and eventually, stopped waking up. With Sam – his anxiety and colic led to a boy who didn’t ever relax unless he was next to me, and he never even laid in his crib (let alone slept in it). By the time Julie was born, I didn’t even bother. She just slept in bed with us and it was fine.
Part of the reason that she’s been in our bed for so long has been that I keep thinking we are going to move. It seemed like such a big transition for Jessie – to give up her own room to share it with a five year old, and I kept thinking that it’d just be easier to wait. And I loved sleeping with our girl – she’d snuggle in between Marc and I. I had a toddler bed in our room that I’d throw her in more often than not, and she was outgrowing it.
It was time.
So we got some hand-me-down bunk beds, and they’re perfect. Jessie was game for bunk beds, but asked for stairs, and Marc built her some bookshelves/stairs that he attached to the beds. I took them shopping, and bought pretty new comforters and throw pillows. Saturday, I went thru the closets and dressers, and rearranged all of them. Jessie got Sam’s old dresser, Julie got Jessie’s old dresser, Sam got the bonus dresser I used for extra clothes, and Julie’s old dresser became the arts/crafts dresser. So to speak. I don’t know, really, what I’ll do with that one…
Sunday, Marc transported and built and shopped for wood and built some more. By Sunday night, the beds were perfect, and my little girl was ready, psyched, even to sleep in her Doc McStuffins bed.
Until she wouldn’t go to sleep. The battle went on for three hours, with her wide awake and kicking at the wall, wiggling like a little worm, and me getting more and more frustrated. She deteriorated into tears and I started yelling. I ended up taking her back into my bed – she didn’t go down until after eleven.
Last night, we made books. One called “Julianna Goes to Bed” and the other one called “Julianna Wakes Up.” I wrote down every single step, from cleaning up to having a little snack, brushing her teeth and picking out her clothes for the next day. We read two stories and snuggled her to sleep. It took me an hour and forty five minutes, and she cried (because she couldn’t sleep – IT WAS HARD – and why didn’t I understand that???) but I never raised my voice, and she slept all night in her own bed. So it counts as a victory. Not as much as a victory as it would have been if she hadn’t sobbed, but progress. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
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