"HELP...I'M SCAAARED" ...... the three famous last word that single-handedly resurrected my career as a co-sleeper. The old gig was fun while it lasted, but the kid was pushing four - and there was another one on the way in a few weeks. So we did what any other self-respecting parents would do. We bought her a big girl bed - a two thousand dollar replica of Cinderella's Coach. What? The kid likes Cinderella.
Now I'm sitting here surrounded by 19 pillows, toddler drool on my neck, wondering what we're going to do to top that. At least I have the next two years to figure it out, right?
Well, Kid A would nestle into her spot in her frilly nightgown and two little blue sparrows would gently pull her blankets up to her chin. Kid B, on the other hand, splayed out sideways in nothing but a diaper, snores like she just polished off a fifth of bourbon and a pack of Lucky Strikes. She thrashes around like she's dreaming of her night in the mosh pit, and when she wakes around 5 or 6, she likes to bid you good morn with two thumbs in your eye lids and the greeting "HAHA - I'M UP MA!" I am enthusiastically looking forward to a solid night's sleep alone in my bed. I'm shooting for 2013.
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