Most of the time I feel like I’m a lucky mum when it comes to The Boy. Besides the fact that he’s the best thing that happens to me Every Single Day, my son has always been a pretty good sleeper. Oh there was the “up every couple of hours” teething time and the “let’s read just one more book” dawdling time and the “waaah, my nose, my nose is dropping (dripping)” sick mommy’s boy time. But for the most part, and with a lot of training (and coaxing and tough loving it), he’s been a good sleeper.
We co-slept (and still do occasionally because it’s lonely in MY big bed all by my lonesome, dammit!) Half the time, when he pitter-patters to my bedroom, its RIGHT AFTER I have fallen asleep, of course. And usually he woke up because he has to potty. And so, just so that I can get right back to sleep, I need him to too. So I don’t really mind that he crawls in with me.
Wen we moved into our current house, he got his own bedroom, and that has been an adjustment for the both of us. Him, so far away from me. And me, sleepless wondering if he’ll figure out how to unlock the outside door and head out into the street.
But it’s been good all in all. He still has a daily nap too. A one hour nap at “school,” usually two or more hours on the weekends when at home. And thankfully so, this results in a happy boy who can play endlessly right up to bedtime.
But some days… when he skips his nap at school… I can tell right away when i pick him up. It’s nothing but crank, crank, crank all evening long. And that’s when I most resemble my own mother by pulling out the “you’re going to bed early tonight” plan.
At least then, cranktime, though painful and debilitating, is thankfully short. So I guess it works out in the end.