My husband and I don't make a habit of letting our kids sleep with us. They've always done really well sleeping in their own beds in their own rooms so we've never really had to deal with it. But one night, my littlest and my middle were begging to sleep with me. Normally I just say no and that's about the end of it. Translation: I say no, they cry and eventually go to their rooms. On this particular day, my resolve was waning. My husband was out town and the older was at overnight camp so I thought, why not? Slumber party! They were super excited, got their pajamas on, and sprinted to my bed. I'm pretty sure the excitement was due to me letting them watch TV in the bed. (Now, I know what you're thinking….good Christians don't have TVs in their bedroom. We like to watch Jimmy Fallon. Deal with it.) So we watch TV, probably Full House since that has somehow become the only show my kids watch, and after 30 minutes or so I turn it off so they can go to sleep.
I come to bed a little bit later after they've fallen asleep and find that I have exactly six inches of space on the edge of the bed in which to sleep. I lay on my side praying that I don't fall on the cold, hard floor in the middle of the night. As I'm drifting off only slightly aware that any sudden movement puts my body in jeopardy of crashing to the ground, WHAM! I just got smacked in the face! Then another arm karate chops my side! What is going on?!? Am I in a ninja battle dream sequence because it feels awfully real. I was so focused on gripping the edge of the bed for dear life, it didn't occur to me that I should be on guard for miniature ninjas in my bed. I'm a little frightened because I can't see very well in the dark and I don't know when the next blow is coming.
So I turn over to find my littlest. He's sleeping. The face of an angel. Like one you would see on a commercial for Nyquil. His sweet little face doesn't quite match what his arms and legs are doing. It's like his face is completely unaware that the devil has taken over the rest of his body. His arms and legs are like crazy octopus tentacles flailing and hitting me, the dog, and barely missing his sister.
(Again, I know what you're thinking….first the TV, now a dog is in your marital bed? For shame! I have no excuse.)
The beat down continued throughout the night until sometime in the early morning hours. I'm sure his muscles started cramping at some point so he decided to give them a rest. I'm surprised he didn't pull a hamstring with all the dead legs he was giving me. I'm sure he'll need me to ice them when he wakes up. While I'm icing him, he'll probably ask why I'm limping. Little devil.
So after the worst sleep of my life, I promised myself I would never do that again. Ever. (Unless we're in a hotel and it's absolutely necessary. And in that case I'm sure the hubs will volunteer to take one for the team and sleep with the kids. I'm sure he'll be totally fine with it. I mean, who wouldn't want to sleep with basically a wild animal?)
On a side note, the littlest was stoked to find out he morphs into an actual Ninja Turtle in his sleep. He's pretty sure he's Raphael because he's the coolest.
Do you have any sleep ninjas in your bed?