They creep in. Slowly. In the middle of the night. Sometimes we don’t even wake up.
Last night, we woke up. And stayed up….
Bizarrely, the baby had his blankey over his head and was walking into the room, nearly into the elliptical machine (still new to them), as if he was Casper the Ghost. I laughed out loud. Even though it was barely 3 am.
I have no idea what precipitated this nightly migration. Regardless of the original trigger, it is becoming a pattern. A bad pattern. A pattern that involves 5 people in a bed built for two. A bed MEANT for two.
I was one of those ridiculous pregnant women that believed I knew everything there was to know about parenting before I had actually done any parenting. I figured having served as a nanny had equipped me with everything I needed to know about discipline and consistency. I vividly remember a conversation I had with my brother-in-law during one of our baby showers where I smugly told him that I, Pied Piper of the children, would NEVER allow children to sleep in my bed. How he kept a straight face I will never know. He actually did try to talk me off of that position a little, but I would not hear of it.
So now we’re at an impasse. I’ve tried everything the parenting books advise you never to do. (Who writes these books? Have they had kids? Did they work while having said kids?) Anyways, I have bribed them. With morning M&Ms. How terrible is that!?!? It only works for one, so don’t panic too much on their behalf. I have begged them. With big sad exhausted eyes. I have tried firmly ensconcing them immediately back in their beds. If I had the time to video the response, I would, so you could fully appreciate the dilemma. It involves me sleeping on their floor until I think they’re asleep, and then me creeping out of the room only to have them starting crying, loudly, and rushing back to our room. Last night, after that routine, it involved Bray getting into a heated battle with the baby who screamed so loudly to be let into our bed that the walls shook and the remaining sleeping mini-people in the house awoke.
I am confident this migration will stop. But I’d really like for it to stop before high school. It’s cute at 6 am when you only have 20 minutes left to sleep and you can just snuggle with one angelic toddler. It’s less cute at 2 am, and then at 3 am, and then at 4:30 am, when I am squished on one side by the little lady, who falls out of the bed when not given enough “space,” and on the other side by the baby, who kicks me constantly in the rib cage, and at my feet or knees by the eldest who is less particular about his location in the bed, largely because he tends to be the last to arrive.
If, on desperate occasion, I tip toe out at 4 am to catch an hour or two of sleep in the spacious guest room bed, they follow me. I kid you not. Hard sleeping three-year old triplets awaking at any motion I make to shadow me into whatever space I choose.
I am very tired.