We have just moved to the country and the adjustment to the slower pace of life has its ups and downs. Personally, I am finding it difficult to be motivated when the start of my day doesn’t involve a walk to Starbucks, a giant coffee, something sweet (I know I shouldn’t) and walking the dog before facing the day ahead.
Etta isn’t at nursery and we are yet to find a suitable replacement for what was the only thing keeping us in the city, the girls that took her class cried when she left, Etta blubbered and Alice and I had to console each other on one anothers shoulder in the car before attempting the drive back to deepest darkest Surrey. So obviously it’s all change and I am not going to sit here and make you read about me banging on about how hard the adjustment is as I just need to grow a pair, get motivated and start enjoying this place for all the reasons why we left the big smoke.
But the move has been difficult for one little person in particular, Etta. We always see her as quite resilient and figured that she had inherited the nomadic gene that Alice and I both have and one that has left us with serious fomo for the wanderlust that we used to indulge on a weekly basis before the minis came along. We used to be on a plane every weekend and now Alice hasn’t flown in coming up to two years and all we have now are the distant memories. The problem lies with our sleeping arrangements, Etta has a beautiful new room which has the colours and pictures on the walls she wanted as well as the color paint on her lovely bed but does she want to sleep in her room? NO.
Every night we put her to bed in what she calls her new room and her new bed but she isn’t happy and she wakes up in the dead of the night and sneaks under the duvet, prizes Alice and I apart (who am I kidding we are way too tired to sleep spooning) and settles down between us whilst not forgetting 3 or 4 vital teddies on her travels.
It all came to a head last night when she shouted and shouted to me whilst I was trying to read her a story that she wasn’t tired and didn’t want to go to bed whilst looking off her face. I took her downstairs, the screaming continued until Alice reappeared after her run. luckily Alice passed the baton to me and vica versa. Whilst I was out on my run the girls had a proper head to head that culminated with Etta articulating that she doesn’t like her room and doesn’t understand why she doesn’t get to sleep in our room whilst the little man does.
This I am sure has been heard a million times over by new parents to their second child from the first-born and I am not wanting to whine, I know I am but on top of moving house and the little guy getting so much attention because of him being new and his heart condition was too much for Alice who promptly put Etta to bed in our bed.
This morning when Etta came downstairs and gave me a huge hug she told me that she had slept in our bed, I wasn’t there when she went to sleep or woke up as I am doing AM and PM runs to lose my sympathetic pregnancy belly, the smile on her little face when I told her that its her room and bed now has probably sowed the seeds for her to be sleeping in with us for another 5 years but does it really matter?
So many parents take a side on the co-sleeping debate and doesnt seem to be much reason in between, I know that’s pretty . much it with whatever decision you choose with parenting as you need to be so invested in it but having your mini sleep in your bed can’t be that harmful.
Sure it’s a little uncomfortable and we wake up a few times but that vs putting her back in bed and waking up time and time gain is no biggy.
Plenty of people tell you that it ruins your sex life to which I say if your only having sex in your bed then your sex life is ruined already.
now I know co-sleeping is quite divisive, I have already been thinking of a way to move Etta and Ezra into one room when the little guy is ready and then splitting them from there but seriously what is the problem?
Maybe I will live to regret this post ion the coming weeks or months but for right now I am more than happy to wake up with a troll in my side and a
Barbie up my butt. Whats the worst that can happen……….
To be continued…..