Some kids can sleep on any surface. Unfortunately, Leighton is not one of those kids. She's decidedly a kid who's sleep would be disrupted by a teeny pea seated beneath twenty mattresses and twenty eider-down beds.
Nearly four months ago, I wrote about the "special" way I would put Leighton to bed and how I was impressed and a little bit sad that someone else had mastered the "special" way too. Read Sleepy Sweet Relief. I've also recently discussed the fact that Leighton is not the most consistent sleeper. Read Cry It Out.
The only predictable part of our special sleepy time routine includes her clutching her lovie while I tell her to "get cozy". At some point, after I've run through the list of all things cozy, she will roll over on her side and go to sleep. Or try to sleep anyway.
However, as Leighton has recently explained to me, it is far easier to get cozy when ensconced in maximum comfort. When she was rather fresh from the oven and didn't move much during the night, she slept piled upon several layers of fleece blankets, topped with an Aden and Anais blanket as a gauzy sweat barrier. We joked that Leighton liked her bed to feel heavenly. And so it was.
Since the enormous pile of blankets is more hazardous than comforting to an almost eight month-old who likes to flip around in her sleep, we've removed the Princess and the Pea style super mattress situation from her crib. The new and now unimproved sleep surface is less than ideal for my little princess. COZY IS DEAD is the impression I get from Leighton's revamped sleepy time routine, which brilliantly includes tossing, turning, crying and squawking.
Lei's been sick; She's basically had a cold since starting Kids' Work. And, because a stuffy nose accompanies each bout of the plague without exception, sleep has become a state in which she drifts in and out between nose blows. So, I figure that her bedtime battles have at least something to do with the feeling that her sinuses are caught in a vice. I get sick every time she does and that's how my sinuses feel, so I project, empathize and rationalize.
Cozy has taken on a new meaning of late. Last night, Lei and I camped on the floor in her room atop a doubled-up down comforter with down pillows beneath my head and her entire body. Lei covered up with her magenta Little Giraffe blanket, lovie in hand, and I snuggled up in quilts my mom had made. At one point, we moved the arrangement to bed with daddy and Lue. Between the fluffy linens and Tylenol, we slept like champs all night long.
If Leighton is lying next to me on a pillow, she closes her eyes and drifts off within minutes. I don't even need to sing her to sleep or wait for her to fart around in her crib for an hour before tiring enough to be rocked to sleep. GENIUS. Plus, once she's asleep, I can take her to her own bed. Which still allows for mommy and daddy time. A small price to pay in my humble opinion for a sleeping beeb.
It's a hard habit to break. And truthfully, I don't know that I really want to.
I'm sure someone out there has a comment for me on the family bed sleeping arrangement or on how irresponsible I am to let Lei sleep with the down of ten thousand geese. Let 'er rip and share your fuss with us!