Still catching up on posts from our Africa trip, and one tiny aspect of that trip was co-sleeping. Those of you who know me well know that we sleep with our babies until they don't want to sleep with us anymore. This has been one of the many parts of parenting that I never dreamed I would love, until that first little swaddled bean appeared next to me in bed one night, with her sweet little breaths and sweet sighing and convenient location for 2-hour feedings.
My heart was a little broken when she chose her own room over our bed, but then again, it took me about five minutes to get over that and fall asleep.
Co-sleeping with Wildman was never quite as sweet. He always feels a little warm and clammy from overexertion. What a charmer he is going to be as a sweaty teenager after gym class. But even as a tiny babe, swaddled with my best and biggest swaddling blanket, he didn't like to cuddle. He liked to break out of the swaddle and maul anyone within his range of mobility, and then fall asleep with his head growing out of my armpit. It sounds funny, but ask the person next to you right now to stick their head against your armpit and push hard for an extended period of time. It hurts! So dear husband and I were both a little relieved when Wildman chose his own room as soon as he could walk in there.
This trip to Africa found the four of us sleeping in two beds for the first several nights, then for the last five nights we all slept in one king bed. It was a sweet change of pace, and everyone slept soundly.
Since our return home, however, Wildman has been back to his old tricks. He appeared in our bed shortly before midnight last night and spent the better part of the night trying to implant his head into my armpit. I will admit a bit of anxiety about going to bed tonight. And a sad thought enters my mind: I think I may be done with co-sleeping.
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