Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Breaking Bed: Getting My Daughter to Sleep in Her Own Room

I admit it; my daughter is almost five years old and still sleeping in our bed. We've made progress over the years, but were back to square one after I went away for work. Although I no longer travel often, when I am gone it is usually for more than a week. So I left last year and when I returned my daughter and husband made it clear that they had their own routine worked out - which consisted of her being in our bed, snuggled up like a cat at the top of our head board. At first I protested, but when my husband said "It's the only time she's closer to me, than to you," I relented. It was true - during the day, when not in school, Parker is literally up under me. If I go upstairs, she follows, if I go to the bathroom, she follows, it's to the point where my husband has to divert her attention so I can sneak a break.

So for the past year, every night she begins by coming into our room going to Larry's side of the bed (as she learned long ago that not even a crying child wakes me once I am out)crawling onto his back where she'll rest for a bit and then work her way to the head board. But she moves through the night and it seems like we make every position of the alphabet over the course of the evening. It usually ends sometime around 6:00 a.m. when without fail, one of those moves results in a swift kick to my bladder - which gets me up for the day.

Yet, I resigned myself to this being the way of life. Plus, I did like waking up to her sweet face each morning and was amazed how she automatically slept in the same position as me or Larry. But this Saturday, I was watching Dr. Gayle on CBS and the segment happened to be on kids sleeping with their parents. Dr. Gail Saltz (whom I love)mentioned how it harms a child's self-confidence, makes them less independent and basically, in my mind was counter-productive to all the benefits I felt I was giving her at her Montessori School. So that was it. I announced to Larry "starting tonight she's sleeping in her own bed." Dr. Gail promised if we tough it out for a week, we'd be golden.

That night we put her to bed and I told her she would not be allowed to sleep in our room. It started out okay but then the all-night pilgrimages started with her coming to our room, being sent back and coming back again - but I stuck to my guns. Nights #2 and #3, the poor thing gave up on coming to the room upon waking up and just started howling. That of course sprung Daddy into action - he ran into her room and found her crying - not in the bed, but in a corner behind the bed saying "I'm scared, Daddy." At this point I wanted to hunt Dr. Gail down so I can sit in a corner in her office and scream. I felt like a horrible, mean shrew, inflicting torture on my child - my mother and husband agreed - with Larry cutting me mean looks in the morning and my mom reminding me that we slept her in her bed every night until we were 11 and we turned out ok - but I stuck to my guns. Last night I told her that her pom-poms served double duty as a mechanism to swish monsters away and to use it if sh felt scared. Then I went to bed. I woke this morning with a hopeful smile on my face and asked my husband "Did she wake up? I didn't hear her cry." Of course she did - and of course he came to the rescue. Apparently, although she may not yet be able to sleep through the night, I am handling it better every day. And the way I see it, Daddy can still be the hero swooping down to rescue his princess. I'm going to give that another week because princesses should learn to rescue themselves!

So we'll see how it goes. I must admit, I miss her in our bed. I feel like I am letting my baby go - I already lament the fact that at almost five - she only has 13 more years living with us before she heads to college. It seems like it's moving so fast. I kick her out the door each day to be independent, I always remind her that "Mommy is not going to be around to do things for you all the time so you have to learn to do them for yourself," yet I love when she sits in my lap, grabs my face in her hands, or runs to me each day when I pick her up from school. I know this is more about me than about her. I want my baby, but I also want her to be fiercely independent. So we start with bed - and then we'll move on slowly, on to life.

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