Get Out of My Bed

I have come to realize that being a mom really means never being able to finish any plate of food you have fixed for yourself.  It means every time you pull your own hair up you must also do the same to two others.  It means never leaving your house in clean clothes again.  It essentially means you must share everything with your children. 

In most instances I am good with this, although I am often annoyed at not getting to eat my own dinner, and every hair accessory and scarf I own being stolen, but I deal.  However, I do not deal (at least not well) when it comes to my bed.

My husband and I first purchased a king sized bed a few years back prior to children.  At the time our 85lb lap dog insisted on sleeping in our double bed with us, and we were cramped.   We purchased our king bed and the dog still slept on me.  Not long after the dog was kicked out to his own bed because I really don't like sharing my bed. 

Truthfully, I find our king sized bed a touch small when my husband shares it with me.  He is a shift worker and when he is on nights it feels like just the right size for me, and only me. 

Soon after our oldest daughter arrived,  between lack of sleep and desperation (she would wake up 7 to nine times a night until nearly two) I allowed her to sleep with me at times.  Scratch that, not so much allowed her to; but more, was too exhausted to move her back to her own bed once she finally fell asleep.  Although she has not spent even close to a full night in my bed in a very long time, she still awakes most nights and comes into my room whining to sleep with me at about 4:00am.

Not letting her sleep with me has nothing to do with principal, or a lesson, or any views I have on co-sleeping.  I simply cannot let her sleep with me because I wake up resenting her.  She has got to be the worst person to share a bed with.  She does not lay still, she kicks,  she sucks her thumb and all around makes me miserable.  To top off this situation, if I insist she return to her own bed, the whining and crying begins as she is too tired to cope or realize the reality of how sleepy she is. 

This morning like many mornings I had my 4:00am visitor to my bedroom.  And this morning like many mornings I lost my marbles on her.  My husband was in bed next to be.  He does a much better job at dealing with these early morning visits and is able to sleep next to her without a problem.  So when she arrived in my room whining to sleep with me I told her to go to her daddy.  She argued and I told her to either get back to her bed or lay with her daddy or bad things would happen. 

She did crawl into our bed between the two of us and I warned her not to touch me.  When she started kicking me, rubbing her feet on my legs and sucking her thumb in my ear I could feel my blood nearly boil. 

I then got up, got ready for work, got her ready for school.  I did my hair, then her hair with my hair clips.  I made us all breakfast and she ate most of mine, even though it was the same as hers.  I walked out the door trying to wipe the sticky figure mess from my shirt, and it's fine because I can share all of these things- just not my bed!