I’ve always been a tightly wound parent. With anxiety as my constant companion, it’s difficult to stop seeing past a single action and worrying about the long-term effects. One of the things I have the hardest time relaxing about is sleep. My kids are great sleepers, but we miss out on many evening activities, and travel can be tricky. They are dependent on white noise and a great deal of consistency and routine, which can be difficult anywhere but home. When we were a family of three, it wasn’t too bad to limit our exploring to destinations where we could have two sleep spaces and bring our trusty white noise machine; there were even times I slept in a chair in a living room, so my first daughter could sleep in the bedroom alone lest I wake her trying to enter later in the evening. I never expected bed-sharing on vacation to be something I could handle, much less enjoy. Thankfully, as our family has grown, I’ve been able to relax my standards for where I can take everyone. My kids have smoothly adjusted to sharing a room with a parent on trips, and my oldest two love sharing a room at grandma’s.
On our extended annual family trip to northern Michigan this summer, I met a new hurdle. Although I tried to find a separate bed for everyone in my little circus, I couldn’t obviously get one and ended up bed-sharing with my one kid. This may sound absolutely crazy but it was the first time for me and it was a very special vacation time with the kids.
Since he was a baby, I had never even shared a room with him due to covid disrupting travel plans. And what would occur upon our return? Sobbing? Would he remain awake, staring at me? Would he desire to converse with me all night long? It made me extremely anxious! However, this past July, I made the decision to sleep in a twin bed with my two-year-old son. Out of an abundance of worry about numerous factors, I never returned them to my bed, not even as infants, even when they woke up during the night. Fearing that it would create an everlasting dependence, I had never allowed myself to join one of the children in bed, despite being tempted numerous times, in my sacred quest for peaceful nights in my home.
A me notice wouldn’t he for hours few a me notice wouldn’t he for hours fewOutput: I was pleasantly surprised by what happened until I could get some sleep, he wouldn’t notice me for a few hours.
It was absolutely marvelous.
Sometimes, he continued sleeping even though there were lots of times when he snuggled up to me. I could never allow myself to do something like wrapping up in worry about where and how he should sleep when on a free vacation that helped break my fear of sharing a bed. I could wonder at the perfection of his boyish glow in the nightlight’s glow and never had I allowed myself to do something that could content my heart. Even before joining him when he inevitably would end up sideways across the bed, I never minded the nightly ritual of moving my precious body and holding his hand in his habit of sleep.
I am so grateful for that gentle reminder. He deserves more credit than he gets. Then, we upped the ante and made him a big brother. Being in the middle of a pandemic has been hard for him, as he sometimes struggles to learn emotional and social skills. This trip gave me such a precious gift of connection with him. As the only boy and newly middle child in our family of five, sometimes he is pushed to make the room quiet or hurry up. But sometimes, when I think back to his sweet face touching mine in the dark, I realize that the best way to sleep is still with him. When we got home, I was even more happy to deposit him in his own bed and shut the door.