Saturday, March 3, 2012

Confession

Annessa slept through the night at 3 months - that was one of my crowning achievements as a mom (not that I had that much to do with it, but as a new mom, I took any positive thing as I sign that I was "doing it right").  After that - you could call me the Cold Hearted Bed Nazis.  Bedtime routines were followed, bedtime was the same every night, and she always, always slept in her own room.  Once she was out of her crib, sometimes she slept on the floor with her blanket (did I mention she has a mind of her own), but I didn't care - as long as she was in her own room. 

Fast-forward 4 years.  Ever since "the accident" she has been sleeping in our bed.  It all started when Rich was in the hospital and the only time I really saw her was at night, so I just wanted to be as close to her as I could (plus the thought of sleeping in an empty bed was terrifying).  Then, Rich came home, we moved into our new house, and I thought, "Okay - Bed Nazis is in full affect.  Time to kick this habit."  Nope - didn't happen. 

"Snuggling in bed with her is just about the only thing I can do with her right now." Rich would say.  Okay......twist my arm.

Now.  It. Is. A. Habit.  A habit that is soooo hard to break.  And, I kind of have to admit (and it pains me to write this), I really love the whole "family bed" thing. 

Last Thursday, Rich was gone at his bothers, Grey's was on and I got a bug up my ass and decided, "This is it.  She is going to sleep in her own bed." 

It didn't go well.  Imagine this: 4-year-old stands in the doorway.  She yells, "I am NOT YOUR BEST FRIEND anymore!" Followed by, "I am NOT GOING TO PLAY WITH YOU EVER AGAIN!" (door slams.  Door opens.  Door slams again.  This time with so much force the pictures almost fall off the wall).  The tyrant doesn't get the reaction she wants (I am stone-faced with eyebrows lifted, biting the inside of my mouth so I don't laugh), when she says the ultimate: "I AM GOING TO KICK YOUR BUTT!"  Say what?!?  Oh HELL no she didn't. 

Needless to say, there was a stern talking to by me, then by her daddy when he came home.  And she stayed put, right were she was.  No giving in, man. 

In the morning, she was like: "Mama, do you forgive me?" Her big brown eye wide and meek. 

Of course.  I forgave you the minute it came out of your mouth, but I didn't tell her that. 

Hmmm. Wonder if she will have a door on her room when she's 16?  Something tells me we might just be taking it off its hinges every once in awhile.  Thank you, God, for this strong-willed girl. (Who, apparently, has a conscious).