The Family Bed Experiment

Last night we tried a little experiment. It failed.

Just a couple weeks ago we had a conversation about how it's kind of sad that Corinne can't/ won't/ doesn't sleep in bed with us. Not that we want her to do this every night, mind you. It's just that it would be nice, every once in awhile, for her to come padding down the hall, say from a nightmare or during a thunder storm, and we could all cuddle together, just Morgan Incorporated versus the world. She won't even get into bed with us for a few minutes on a Saturday morning for some good old fashioned tickle time. She just ain't into it. You can't even lie on her floor at night as she falls asleep or sit on her bedside. She barely sleeps in the car and never, even as a baby, crashes out on the floor or on the couch or anywhere but in her bed, alone. I think it's a sensory-overload issue She can't make herself shut down unless the conditions are just so, and having other people around doesn't help that.

Now we realize that the pros of this are obvious. You hear stories of kids making this a permanent habit, of couples who, voluntarily or otherwise, share their bed with one or more kids every night. And as it is we only have a full-sized bed that, frankly, neither of us has had a good night sleep in since the fun of spooning wore off (probably sometime about a month after our honeymoon). Then we have to deal with the cats and their inexplicable need to be on the bed, off the bed, on the bed, off the bed... a hundred times a night. And Seven, who wakes up several times a night panting loudly like she's been chasing frisbees for an hour. All these things have wreaked havoc on our sleep cycle as it is, without adding a new nocturnal visitor. But still, it would just be sweet, just once in awhile...

So the perfect opportunity presented itself this weekend while we were visiting my parents. We have the wonderful luxury of sleeping in a king-sized bed when we stay at my mom's, and my sister had decided to crash for the night, meaning she would sleep in Corinne's big-girl bed ( a twin). We decided to let Corinne fall asleep in our bed at her normal time. We would then slip quietly into bed with her when we were ready to sleep and voila!

All went according to plan initially. She was sound asleep (albeit sprawled across the width of the bed, but that was easily fixed), and remained that way for about an hour or two. Then I woke up to find her sitting bolt upright. "Me me have poo poos" Corinne informed me. And indeed she did. Messy diarrhea-like ones. This required the turning on of the light and the searching for diapers and wipes and the undressing and when all was said and done we were all quite wide awake. I read her a book and then we told her it was time for night-night. Easier said than done. For the next hour she read and sat up and lay down and tossed and turned. I would start to drift off and then she would proclaim loudly " hello momma, hello Dadda, hello you!" and "you awake now!" (she refers to herself as "you", and efforts to correct this turn into an exchange that resembles a three stooges "who's on first?" skit). Then she pretended her stuffed Shamu was crying as she kept bumping him into my face. Finally she quieted down and curled up next to me, but every time I opened my eyes, there she was staring at me, three inches away, "boo-bah" (her beloved pacifier) going a mile a minute, Lisa Simpson-style. Finally, finally she settled in, spooning with me as I had hoped she would, reminiscent of that baby I remember napping with post-nursing.

Around that time Dadda got the Jimmy Legs and couldn't stay in bed another second. I sympathize. Already my arm was falling asleep and I knew I would be lying awake, waiting for when I thought she was sleeping deeply enough that I could move without disturbing her. Well, Dadda got out of bed without issue and promptly bumped into Seven, who let out yelp like she had been cattle prodded. This, of course, woke everyone back up and so it began again. We finally admitted defeat and set up a lovely bedroom for her in the bathroom, making a bed out of couch cushions. This required another 20 minutes of baby-proofing the bathroom, getting the night light, white noise machine, books, drink and toys all set up for our little princess, and putting a sign on the door so that no one would enter the bathroom and wake her up once, God willing, she finally fell asleep again.

So there you have it- our botched attempt at a precious family moment. On the bright side we were treated to a laugh in the morning when I opened the bathroom door to find Corinne standing at the sink with all the tooth brushes in her mouth and 7 or 8 Little People all lined up in a neat row on the toilet seat. I hope she was able to sleep with all those people watching her.