Co-sleeping Is An Oxymoron
Some “Parenting Experts”(i.e., anyone with a computer) will strongly advise against sharing a bed with your little one. They’re mainly opposed for safety reasons, but some believe it could lead to the child demanding to sleep in your bed until their 40th birthday or they move out—whichever comes first.
I tend to avoid co-sleeping, unless it’s a holiday, weekend or the second Tuesday of every month. I also reserve it for those nights when my kid just won’t stop getting me out of bed. Logically, you’d get more sleep if you could just reach over and “shush” the child than you would if you had to walk down the hall to their room, right?
Wrong.
In case you haven’t yet made the mistake of allowing your Beautiful Dreamer between your sheets, but have been thinking about it, consider this your final warning:
1. It doesn’t matter whether you have a California King or not, a child can make that bed feel smaller than a Japanese capsule hotel “room”. You might even think they are trying to score a free night’s stay back in Club Uterus.
2. Proximity isn’t enough. A part of the child’s body has to be touching you at all times. It’s as if their hands and feet are tiny, chubby Liam Neesons because they have “a very particular set of skills”—skills that make them a “nightmare for people like you” (like fish-hooking your mouth while also digging into your sciatic nerve). No matter how much you try to get away, they will find you.
3. Kids bodies run, on average, 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Put that hot potato in a sleep sack or footie PJs, and you are in for a long, schwetty night.
4. Children have gigantic, incredibly hard heads. So hard, that when that Charlie Brown melon comes crashing into your nose at 3 a.m., they don’t even flinch. You, however, will be crying.
5. Have you ever woke up to someone grabbing your face, turning it toward your spouse and screaming, “Whose face is that?!” I have, and it’s terrifying.
So there you have it: co-sleeping. There is nothing “co” about it. Someone may sleep, but it won’t be you. But despite all this, tonight you will probably find my kid in our bed, because there is nothing quite as precious as waking up to a little person with bed-head, and their face looking like a Shar Pei.
And if the experts are correct, I only have about 37 more years to savor it.
Sweet Dreams!
