So my kids are in training for the Babylympics. Their strongest event is the Wakey Mummy Relay. They pass the Wakey Wakey baton back and forth all night sometimes. They have perfected the smoothest of change-overs. Goodness, I'm so proud of them. The Terrible Toddler is also in training for the Whine-athon, at times she manages to keep it up all day - and that takes some skill.
Honestly, I think they just worry about leaving me on my own at night and want to keep me company. Bless. I've always been anti co-sleeping but have to admit that recently I've just plopped the Terrible Toddler in bed with me to shut her up and get some sleep before the Little Man revs up. Of course, I say 'get some sleep', what I really mean is get whacked on the head with Flopsy Bunny and kicked in the guts for an hour while I pretend to be asleep. She eventually gets bored of pinging my ears and dozes off, managing to take up far more room than a person only 89cm tall ought to be able to take up. Then the snoring begins.
And there I was just the other day actually defending co-sleeping.
'Nobody,' I proclaimed in my best Mother Nature voice 'would tell a lioness to not sleep curled up with her cubs because they need to learn to fall asleep independently. What nonsense.'
Sod that. Sod Mother Nature too.
If I needed any further evidence against co-sleeping, a couple of nights ago, just as the Terrible Toddler was falling asleep she wriggled and... I can barely admit it... she fell right out of my bed. Woke up hollering, Little Man woke up wailing, the neighbours were dialling 999, the whole house was pandemonium for the longest 2 minutes in history of motherhood.
The only good thing was that it threw the Wakey Mummy Relay right out of sync and they both went on to sleep for hours.