Friday, March 23, 2012

My firstborn

Jack likes to sleep in our bed. If I'm among mixed crowds, I pretend like that it's actually part of our approach to parenting, and I throw around words like "family bed" and "co-sleeping." Working at a conservation organization helps with my street cred.

Jeremy and I will often wake up with Jack kicking one of us, Roscoe the cat sleeping soundly between my legs and Jossie tucked in the crook of my arm. If it's a Saturday or Sunday morning, I do enjoy having them all heaped atop of us. These days aren't going to last forever, and I'm relishing it.

But that said, I would really just like a good night's rest as a working mama. And that typically involves avoiding having bony little kids - who repeatedly kick - out of your bed.

So we started our campaign for Jack to sleep in his own bed this month. Every night he sticks to his own bed, we reward him in the morning with a sticker on the calendar. There was one day when he did come in sort-of early but he declared he was just popping in to "check on us" before headed back to bed, so we let it slide.

After accumulating the requisite number of stickers, Jack was awarded with a trip to the Lego store last week, that lucky boy. We picked out a new toy and he promptly put it together with our help that night. (If anyone has tips on what the heck we're actually supposed to do with these assembled Lego creations once they're built, please do let me know.)

And now we're starting to slide back into our old ways. The last two nights, I've woken up to Jack snuggling in beside me.

I talked with Jack about it this morning - we were all exhausted. Both kids had been up all night at differing intervals. Remember me waxing poetry about my friends' newborn yesterday? I love newborns - but not their nightlife. I told Jack I was taking drastic measures - if he got in our bed again, he'd get a black X on the calendar, rather than a sticker.

Jack can do your good, old-fashioned WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH freak-out when he doesn't like what he hears but he can also do the wet-eyes, sad puppy-dog look, which he did this morning after I made my declaration.

"No, Mommy. No X's," he said tearfully. "I want lots of check marks and stickers instead."

Is he a firstborn or what?

Happy Friday!

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