Sleeping double in a single bed and the nightly riot
Almost from the beginning, the guys and I have followed the same nightly ritual: stories, songs, cuddles and lights out. Except lately, we’ve added a step: Big Guy’s long trudge down the hall to his own room.
The great bed-sharing experiment – if you can call something an “experiment” that’s gone on for 10 months – started last spring when Big Guy decided Little Guy’s new bed was far superior to his own.
A month later, I conceded that they were roommates and moved Big Guy’s dresser down the hall. I had an ulterior motive -- I’d love to reclaim one of the bedrooms for my computer, which I’m tired of tripping over in my own room.
A month after that, we went through our first bout of Death Penalty, with Jailer Mommy escorting Big Guy back down the hall to his own room because the guys were holding nightly yak-a-thons instead of sleeping.
At the time, the riots were almost solely Big Guy’s fault, though he really couldn’t help it. He just loves to talk. So I didn’t feel bad at all about telling him he had to go to his room because he wouldn’t let his brother sleep.
Lately, though, the situation’s changed, and Little Guy has decided, too, that it’s a giggle to play “Drive Mommy Nuts By Giggling ‘Til Dawn.”
So it was a nightly half hour of “tee hee hee hee,” followed by “get off me,” followed by “give me my bear” and capped with “stop kicking.”
This coming from two kids who could barely hold their eyes open just minutes before the ill-fated words: “It’s pajama time.”
It was tricky finding a way to change the language so it wasn’t just Big Guy being punished. I finally hit on, “I’m going to have to separate you two.” Little Guy would whimper, “No, budder stay,” which helped my cause immensely.
And Big Guy, of course, would not go down without a fight. “But we talk because we like each other. Don’t you want us to like each other?”
Yes, Big Guy, I’m thrilled that you two (mostly) like each other. I just wish you’d exhibit a bit more of it during daylight hours instead of trying to bash in each other’s heads.
“I tried to sleep, but my eyes won’t close that fast.”
Funny thing, though: Mere minutes after Big Guy’s trudge, I hear snoring from both rooms.
I’m wondering when I’m going to hit my own statute of limitations on this, give up and simply park each in his own room from the start. I’ve always heard that you know when you’ve suffered enough, and I guess I’m just not there yet. We do have the ritual down to 10 minutes from its original 30, though.
Big Guy almost seems relieved to make the trudge now, though, being Big Guy, he’d never admit it. He doesn’t even protest, doesn’t drag his feet. He quickly snuggles into his own bed and drifts off. I guess it’s getting a little crowded in that twin bed, from his perspective.
Little Guy, on the other hand, is almost sure to wake up in tears in the middle of every night that Big Guy gets sent away.
I think I just answered my own question: That’s why I keep trying.
Copyright 2008 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.