She's Big Time Now

I'm a bit like Don Corleone. I spoil my children, and they talk when they should listen. I also let them sleep with me forever and ever and ever. 

My youngest child is the most spoiled child in that regard. The oldest boy was out of my bed quite late but was out by the time he was three-ish. The girl is a solid four and expressed zero desire to ever leave my bed.

She had her reasons you see. There are noises outside. There are trains, and bugs, and airplanes and helicopters. Even though she knows what these things are, they scare her in the dark and she needs me. She needs me -and I cannot resist her.

So we've been talking to her though, about getting to sleep in her own bed and it was agreed that if ONLY she had a sound machine, she'd sleep in her own bed. She wanted a sound machine that was an Elsa doll that would sing LET IT GO. We settled on one that played lullabies and projected a friendly moon and stars on the ceiling. 

I admit, I was skeptical. This isn't my first time at the parenting rodeo and I'm a bit immune to kids telling me that if they JUST HAD THIS ONE THING EVERYTHING WOULD CHANGE. 

Except that, it did.

She was excited and ready for bed. Ready to turn on her machine. She snuggled down into her bed and we turned it on and I kissed her goodnight, and retreated to my own room. I waited.

I read a book. I waited some more. She didn't come. 

The next morning she insisted we call grandma and grandpa to tell them that she is a big girl like her cousins. She extolled the virtues of her sound machine. 

Last night, it was the same. I waited for her. And she didn't come. At 4 am she ended up in my bed because Charlie was screaming for unknown autism reasons and scared her. She tells me tonight she's ready to sleep in her bed again. 

Because she's a big girl.

And suddenly, I'm all out of babies.