mother? mistress?

The sleeping arrangements in our house is becoming an issue, though I’m trying to not give up so quickly on it, as the past has shown, just as I hit my almost breaking point, a shift happens and Potamus makes a leap in abilities and maturity. But the past few weeks have been spent with me dividing my time between our king sized memory foam bed with a down comforter and Potamus’ twin size old bunk-bed mattress with blankets on the floor. On average I’m getting 2-3 in our bed and the rest of the night is spent with Potamus, though he has refused to come back to co-sleeping with us in our bed. I guess he wants me all to himself.

There are nights when I wake up and seriously have no idea where I am. I imagine this might be like celebrities who hotel-hop, and at any moment I’m going to shout “Hello Nebraska!” but haven’t left my humble abode in bedroom Seattle. When I sleep in my bedroom I sleep like a king. When I sleep in Potamus’ room, I sleep like Cinderella, on the floor, though the sleep is deep from exhaustion.

I know it’s a phase. I am committed to not having Potamus simply cry it out in his room alone. I love that he’s going down better for naps, and is even waking up during the day and not screaming for Boof or me, instead, motoring around his room reading books and playing with his toys. This is what I want, the independence and freedom and for him to associate his bedroom with sleep and calm and comfort. But I am tired, and would like to only have to go into his room 1 time a night…and not just 1 time at night and then stay there for 7 hours. 🙂

Montessori Floor Bed Update

Potamus has been sleeping in his floor bed for approximately two weeks. This means that mama monk-monk has been sleeping in Potamus’ floor bed for approximately 1.5 weeks. There are better nights than others, like two nights ago where he slept for 5 hours in a row there (but this was AFTER a 2 hour struggle of crying and moping around carrying his tambourine and banging it on the floor). Last night was rough, to say the least, with an almost 3 hour crying/whining jag from 3-5:45am. Sigh. Sometimes I end up sleeping next to him for blocks of time, and other times I’m able to creep away unnoticed and curl up in our luxurious king-size memory foam heaven. Because, lemme tell ya, a twin mattress from your parents’ old bunk bed, placed on hardwood floor, is…less than comfy.

But these moments, where he’s in dreamland by himself, or curled up next to me, seem SO worth it (the next day, because in the moment where he’s thrashing around crying, I do tend to want to pull my hair out).