Moving Out

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Today I had a wild hair.

No, not THAT kind of hare. I said HAIR.

Close. But not that one, either.

This is when you are suddenly struck by an idea so crazy, so impetuous you want to act on it immediately.

Are you ready?

I told David it was time we moved X's crib out of room.

I KNOW! We're inSANE around here.

Stop snickering and listen. This is a BIG deal. Because X was born in our room. He's spent every night of his life there. But now that he's almost one, I'm ready to have our space back.

This morning I spent almost an hour sorting through laundry (yes, David, we DO have an ottoman in there, thanks for pointing that out once I took the pile of clothes off it, hardee har har), filling two bags for Goodwill, throwing out some stuff - basically everything that I can't do on a regular basis because there's a small child sleeping in our room.

I've tried to do it while he's playing on the floor, but, well, you all know about his affinity for feminine products, so I spend most of my time grabbing things out of his hands (or mouth) and usually just give up being productive.

He still, most days, takes two naps. And he goes down for the night around 7. I can't remember the last time David and I watched TV in bed. Forget about anything else that *might* make noise, because this child is the lightest sleeper ever. He wakes up if I so much as sniffle.

We were waiting for him to sleep through the night before we put him in with one of his sibs. That finally happened when he turned 10 months. I just got up and left the room when he cried and went downstairs to sleep on the couch. Once I'm out, he gives up and goes back to sleep.

Now he's rarely up in the night. He wakes up for the day around 6:15 a.m., though, which is usually at least an hour before anyone else. Including me. At least, I'd like to sleep longer. He then proceeds to nurse off and on for an hour while I summon the energy to lift an arm to make sure he doesn't fall off the bed.

I also worry that he won't sleep well once he's moved because the bigger kids will wake him up when THEY go to bed. They are like night roosters: they are SO LOUD while they pee, brush their teeth, get into pjs, etc. I'm surprised you all can't hear them.

We still have to make space in Sawyer's room. An old set of storage bins and an empty aquarium need to be taken out and thrown in the garage. That was supposed to get done today (fail). Our house has teeny bedrooms. I mean, TEE-NY. It's going to be a tough squeeze to fit the crib in there.

But when it gets down to it, these are only logistics.

The real reason I haven't moved him is me.

I can't imagine not having him near. Those first few weeks of his life were spent sleeping in bed with us, and I admit I loved having him so close. Then he moved to a co-sleeper because David was afraid he'd roll over on him, and I was barely sleeping.  He was still in bed half the night nursing anyway, but at least I got a couple hours of sleep in between (although I'd wake up with a start SURE I'd forgotten to put him back in his co-sleeper and he was somewhere under the covers). He soon got too big for the co-sleeper and graduated to the crib.

He can look over the top rail and see me. I'd like to say he then calls, "Mama!" but he might be the only almost one year-old who has never said that word. Daddy is an entirely different story. He's got that one down.

He just wails. Until I sit up and look at his sweet little face.

I mean, could you resist so much cuteness?

His breath is the last thing I hear before I fall asleep (unless someone else's snoring drowns him out).

It's been 355 nights.

I will miss him.

But not tonight. Because he's still in our room. The wild hair thing only goes so far. Maybe tomorrow.

Okay, probably not. Soon, though.

Soon.