The couch

I have been sleeping on the couch since October.
It's not that I don't want to sleep in my own bed, beside my sweet husband. It's just that sleeping in that bed means there is no sleep for mommy.
It's not a bad mattress or a drafty room. Or tension between the hubby & I. The root of the problem lies just about four feet from my pillow -- it's a white crib that from the hours of seven to seven, contains the sweetest little one year old boy. And when I am in that bed, he knows it.

At 11 months, I knew we should be sleeping through the night. And so did he. But he just couldn't seem to resist some social visits in the wee hours of the morning. He didn't want to eat or even play, just snuggle with mama. While this is flattering and incredibly sweet -- both reasons why I let it go on so long, I mean I have to say I kind of enjoyed those quiet snuggles, just the two of us, in the middle of the night -- it was making me a total basket case. While he seemed to rest soundly during those snuggles, I was readjusting to prevent another crick in my neck and glaring at the clock with one eye counting the minutes until the sun was coming up -- and his older sister. And carefully gauging when he had had enough of me & was ready to hit the sheets again.

One day it occurred to me that my inability to function after 2pm might have something to do with the fact I was waking every 2-4 hours at night. The very fact that this was a revelation to me tells you how tired I was. I mean, duh?
So that night, I put clean sheets and a blanket on the couch, and laid my head on a pillow a room away from that white crib & it's contents.
And I slept.
And so did he. There was a brief call out around midnight, but when the call went unanswered he went back to sleep in a matter of minutes.
And so did I.

A week passed and I thought I'd try to move back into my bed, that his habit would be broken. As I brushed my teeth that night, it was as if he knew I was returning. There were a few whimpers and several restless tosses and turns. It was all I needed to remind me no bed was worth sleepless nights. Back to the couch I went. And there I have stayed.

When we move in a few weeks, we'll all have our own room. And the couch will have it's nights alone back.

It's not perfect. Or pretty (my OCD really wants me to unmake the couch every morning & let our living room be just that). But it works. 
And that is what being a mom is about. Making it work.