Before our daughter was born four-and-a-half years ago, we had it all figured out as all soon-to-be parents do. We were well-researched and anxious to show the world that we could right the wrongs of all parents that came before us.

We had heard the sleeping horror stories, collected advice from well-intentioned elders, and made a firm promise that we would never, ever co-sleep. Nu-uh, not us, no way!!!

Enter the first infant head cold.

Our sweet, innocent little girl had morphed into a sweaty bundle of mucus and snot. Insert paranoia here…What was that noise? Was that a cough or a wheeze? OMG is she breathing??? Ya she’s fine. Let’s just try to get a little rest. Did you hear that? Maybe I should check her one more time. Does she feel hotter to you? Another cough/wheeze. OMG is she breathing??? Ya she’s fine.

Panic, repeat, panic, repeat, panic, repeat. Maybe we should put her between us in her buzzy chair just for tonight so we can get some sleep. But seriously JUST FOR TONIGHT!

Fast forward:

Age 6 months-Well, I just feel safer with her here where we can reach her.

Age 1-She’s still just a baby; let’s keep her close while we can.

Age 1 ½-Crying it out in her crib=teaching herself how to barf hot dog chunks on demand.

Age 2-She’s so much fun to wake up to; morning laughs make a crowded bed bearable.

Age 2 ½-Night terrors step up their game. Easier to comfort her when I don’t have to get up

Age 3-Move to new house; freaked out by new room.

Age 3 ½-“You know you can’t turn four till you sleep in your own bed right?”

Age 4-“This is the last night. I mean it!”

Present day:

Our beautiful baby girl is nearly four foot tall and over fifty pounds. All the cuteness and closeness of co-sleeping has been masked by frustration and hostility. We knew better! Nu-uh, no way, never would we co-sleep (for nearly half a decade). Laughter has been replaced with morning breath. Smiles have been replaced with grumbles.  Our precious girl is a bed-hogging, sleep-nose-picking, snoring invasion of our personal space. Her hot nature insures a drop kick to my lady parts every time she fights her way out of the blankets.

Restfulness-rare.

Alone time-what’s that?

Marital relations-sad, sad, sad.

We have tried everything under the sun. I even invented a damn sleep fairy to reward her for nights spent in her bed. Gifts were left. She even had her own special stationary, signed Love and Pixie Dust.

We have now moved on to the final phase of co-sleeping. We are waiting (impatiently) for her friends to make fun of her. I know, I know. Awful parenting in action, but I tell you THERE IS NO OTHER WAY OUT! At this rate I may find myself twenty years from now spooning her husband, as she has invited him to join us.

Sure, why the hell not?