When our kids were small, we used to go through what lots of parents do: Being drudged out of sleep by that tiny, middle-of-the-night voice … the one that whispers “Mommy? …. Mommy? … Mommy?”
You open one eye. Peer upward. And there’s a 3-foot-tall human standing at the side of your bed, breathing heavily into your bangs. …
As you rub the sleep out of your eyes, you remember what all the parenting books say. They all tell you you’ll create a monster if you keep inviting your children into your bed. But … well … you’re just so tired. … and … gosh, maybe just this one more time … and man, is it 3 a.m.?
And you sleepily throw the covers wide and welcome your little human in.
We did this for our first child for three years. I kept reading in the parenting books that I should not do it, and I’d scan through all the bulleted reasons why not, and I’d basically agree. In theory. But – honestly – at 3 in the morning, I never cared. I just wanted to get back to sleep. And the path of least resistance seemed the best path to take. Continue reading