Share-A-Bed Time

Isn't it wonderful how life sometimes goes according to someone else's plan?

When Beth was just a wee mite, we started letting her sleep in her own room, with just a baby monitor to alert us if she woke up at night. We were so convinced by the books that preached discipline and firmness in parenting, and so inspired by the real-life examples set by our friends and their babies, that we never thought to do anything else.

Sometime during the 2 years when we had live-in help, Beth started coming over to our room at night. By the time she was 3, she was fully entrenched in our king-sized bed, sleeping right in the middle between Mummy and Daddy and regularly kicking us awake as she rotated around the bed during the night.

The other day, I laid out Beth's king-sized play mattress in her room, and she got busy taking out old stuffed toys and arranging them around the perimeter. That night, she announced that she was going to sleep in her own room.

My heart leaped - but not for joy. I've become so used to having her little body squashed up against mine at night, to being able to reach out and touch her little hands and feet, to planting kisses on her soft, smooth cheeks "just because", that I wasn't quite ready for this unexpected declaration of independence.

As Beth excitedly got ready for bedtime that night, I found myself lingering in her room longer than I needed to after lights out, chatting with her, patting her, kneeling next to her as she cuddled her soft toys.

Back in my room, the bed suddenly felt huge and empty. It was ridiculous - Beth was nearly 4, long overdue for independent sleeping arrangements, and here I was being a clingy mummy.

Next morning, I sneaked over to Beth's room to wake her for school. She came to readily when she remembered where she was. For the first time in a long time, she was fully conscious and got into her uniform with little help. She was so pleased with herself for being all grown up.

That night, Beth dragged her kiddy mattress and array of soft toys into our room. She arranged the mattress at the foot of our bed, and cheekily announced, "I'm sleeping in my own bed!"

But she never got round to it. After spending a good deal of time doing colouring and reading, when it came time for her favourite nightcap, she still chose our bed - right in the middle.

Daddy was amused when he came into the room.

"What happened to sleeping on your own?" he inquired.

Beth grinned, and continued guzzling her milk, showing no sign of wanting to get up. And there she remained for the rest of the night, and the nights after, back in her favourite position: in between Mummy and Daddy.

My little girl is back where she belongs - what a joyous relief!