When MB was born, we found that we were incredibly lazy. We put two changing tables in, so we didn't have to trudge upstairs to change diapers. I nursed. Not because it was good for the kid, but because I was too lazy to make bottles. I had seen it done: Get up, go downstairs, heat water, pour into bottle, mix creepy powder stuff, shake, get kid, insert bottle, hold kid, cram bottle, blah blah blah. So, I grabbed the kid and shoved a boob near him, and went back to sleep. I figured it was survival of the fittest-find the boob or starve. Your choice.
Anyways, I also hated getting up for each feeding, grabbing the kid out of the crib, and rocking him, then putting him back, all the while keeping him asleep. So, we co-slept. We snuggled all night, to the utter dismay of my back. We did this until shortly after Princess came along, we moved when she was about 6 months old. We had to downsize to a Queen bed, and there just wasn't room for 4. I missed MB's snuggles, but he would come visit once in a while.
Now that he is 12, I rarely see him in the middle of the night, unless it is to take away the cell phone he's still texting on.
Until the other night. It was 4:32 am. I felt a shoulder poke. I look over, and there he is. He says, "I had a bad dream". I opened the covers. He looked, and said, "can I have the middle?" Ahhh, I got my baby back.
About 2 hours later, Princess, who visits each morning at 6:30 for 30 minutes of snuggles, arrives at my side.
"What is HE doing here?"
I smiled, and let her crawl in between Monkey and me.
Maybe there's some Stephen King on tonight...