As I trudge myself back from the pits of of the stomach flu, I’ve confirmed a most important feeling about parenting:
Co-sleeping is for the birds.
Before you get all hot on the titties, hear me out. I’ve put together a list of evidence ans clear points that will argue my case most effectively:
1. We have a king size bed. Every night, I end up almost falling out while Thing 1 and Thing 2 press their little bodies against me tighter and tighter until I hang on to the edge by my toes. One end is reserved for 50 million stuffed animals and Husband is banished to the spare bed downstairs. Toddlers take up way more than there fair share of the space.
2. Kicked in the head. So many times.
3. When someone pees through their diaper, you run the risk of having to wash the sheets.
4. When two of the three of us have the stomach flu, vomit ends up all over the bed. Even with a bucket.
5. The littlest of the tiny people roll in the vomit and end up with vomit chunks in their hair.
6. In my fevered state, I may or may not notice said chunks of vomit until husband pints them out at breakfast the next morning.
7. Do you know how many loads of laundry it takes to wash all the bedding and 50 million stuffed animals of a king sized bed? 6. That’s all day laundry Bitches. All day.
8. Trying to sneak out of bed to use the bathroom or drink coffee requires the stealth of a ninja. Stealth I usually don’t have.
9. Nothing like waking up with a peed diaper ass in your face.
10. Co sleeping is bullshit. Because, stomach flu.
The truth is, I always said I’d never ever co-sleep. Just like I swore that I would circumcise my Buddy. I guess never say never, because it always comes back to haunt you.
Both of my toddlers slumber peacefully in bed with me every night, and the truth is, when they don’t have the stomach flu, it’s kinds nice to wake up to little smiles and cuddles from their onesie pajama’d selves.
But this week, it was bullshit.