Sunday, April 22, 2012

The Perch

It's been lonely. No warm legs or cool feet against my body; no arms flung across my face. No warm, soft body of one of my children next to me. Sometimes, I find it just a relief. Not being cramped up -- pushed against the the veritable edge of a shared mattress. Or having the covers kicked off leaving me cold, vulnerable and irritable. Actually, I am amazed I am able to haul my 40+ year old body up there -- there's no ladder. For the last month or two (who can keep track of time? -- it's a blur), I have been relegated to the "Perch."

In our house, it's musical beds and always has been. We bought a California King bed when I was pregnant with our second child, the Bee. And for a while we had a futon on the floor that Horse Girl slept on early in the evenings before she migrated to our bed for the rest of the night. I was happy to have Horse Girl sleep in our bed and having her sleep on the futon wasn't a goal; she simply noticed that her neighbors and friends had their "own" beds, so she wanted one, too -- just in the same room as us. Whatever, works.

For many years it was the "family bed" -- with all of us in the California King. As the girls grew bigger, my husband would sometimes complain about the conditions being cramped. I didn't have much sympathy. When we were looking to purchase a new bed before the Bee was born, many friends who had been through the sharing sleep routine had earnestly recommended that we purchase the Eastern King rather than the California King (the Eastern King is wider than the California King, which has more length). Did my dear husband, the Entrepeneur, listen? Oh, no. He listened to the sales pitch of the mattress guy about how a tall man like my husband needed the extra room for his long legs found on a California King. Mmm-hmmm. Whenever he would be irritated and complain at the cramped quarters, I would laugh and say, "Sure, it's a little tight, but your feet must sure be comfortable!" Remember, guys, the little woman really does have some valuable information occasionally inside that pretty little head of hers -- if only you would listen.

About three years ago, my husband surprised the girls with a bunk bed for their room, a room they had never slept in. We had all been sleeping for months squashed together in bed because the futon had been disposed of when we put our house on the market to sell (this was right when the housing market crashed so you can imagine how that went.) For months we lived in a pared-down, staged house desperate to sell it with the one bed in the bedroom because it would have been "too weird" to have the futon in there, too, along with the bed. And, now that I am remembering, it wasn't even the King we were sleeping on -- it was the old Queen bed because the King was in the back bedroom to create a "Master Suite" which I didn't want dirtied up. It was definitely tight quarters.

Anyways, toward the end of this drama of trying to sell the house, the Entrepeneur arrived home with and secretly put together the bunk bed for the girls. They were so excited. My husband was so excited - he had always wanted a bunk bed. It took another 4 months for me to get together the bedding for the beds, so during that time we were still in one bed, but by this point we had put the King back in our regular bedroom. The girls and I had gone down to the Fabric/Garment District in Downtown L.A. to buy material for the duvet covers - a really beautiful and fresh Hawaiian print with a light green background with orange and yellow flowers. When the beds were finally ready, the girls were so excited to sleep in them. Horse Girl claimed the top bunk. The Bee preferred the bottom. Each girl felt content.

For several months I lay next to the Bee to help her fall asleep and often slept next to her on the narrow twin mattress. Wasn't the best night's sleep, but a mom's got to do what a mom's got to do. Horse Girl appreciated me being there with them in the room, but felt excited to have her own sleeping space. Several months later the Bee completely weaned herself and told me that she could sleep by herself. I sat next to her while she fell asleep.

In my own bed with the Entrepeneur the first night that the Bee wanted to sleep by herself, I felt electrified with anxiety - sleeping without a child beside me feel absolutely bizarre. It did not feel right. I had slept the last eleven years with a baby or child right beside me (most often one on each side of me) -- watching over each child -- aware of her presence, her breath, her needs. I felt at one with each of my daughters. One bedroom away felt like so very far a distance. I felt sadness and loss.

I felt this way for several nights until I was able to adjust to the new normal. I eventually appreciated that I had more room. That I could snuggle next to the Entrepeneur -- we could touch feet while we slept. I realized that the covers weren't being suddenly and rudely kicked off exposing my poor, tired body to the cool elements of the night air. My arm didn't fall asleep and turn in to ginger ale from being stuck in one position without any ability to find an alternative due to a complete lack of room in the bed. I can't remember exactly how long this went on, but, boy, did it get comfortable.

And then, as parenting goes, it changed again. I think the Bee saw a something that scared her on a show or film (I think it was the Entrepeneur's fault) and she has been back in our bed ever since. Matters are further complicated by the fact that the duvet for her bed has been soiled for some time and I need to get it to the laundry mat to have it cleaned (where to find the time?), so there are no covers for her bed; but, she doesn't seem likely to go back for a while. She seems quite content to have her parents on either side of her while she sleeps.

And then, it changed again. Horse Girl, every once in a great while, decides she wants to sleep with everyone. Now, Horse Girl is taller than I (she just celebrated her fourteenth birthday) so she is a whole other adult sized body in our not-as-wide-California King bed. Usually this is when she is working through some developmental milestone be it physical, emotional or mental (see, it's not just babies or toddlers!) While my husband and I groan (only because we know it will be cramped and we will get a dubious night's sleep), we feel comfortable granting her request because we have always had an open-bed policy -- emotional wholeness and security come first.

Sometimes this makes the Bee very upset. When she had covers on her bed, if her older sister decided she wanted to share the night's sleep, the Bee would get angry, stomp to her own bed and sleep there riddled with resentment. I still am not sure if it was the cramped quarters that bugged her or sharing us. The jury is still out.

Horse Girl has been going through big changes. She has been wanting to sleep in the Big Bed for a while now; I am not sure what it is exactly. She has decided that she wants to attend the local High School next year -- that may be part of it. I think that she needs this physical and emotional connection before she embarks on this new journey by herself. I think it may also be the need to be close. She confided in me that she prefers to sleep with all of us and felt chagrined because at her age wanting to do so was "so lame." Since the Bee migrated back to the Big Bed, Horse Girl has been all alone, while the rest of the family is all snuggling together.

Sleeping together with other family members has been the norm for thousands of years. Sleeping in separate beds, in separate rooms is such a relatively new phenomenon for human beings. We are meant to cuddle together in a tangle of limbs like puppies. We are mammals. We seek the comfort of each other. I let her know that her feelings were totally normal and that being apart was simply a cultural ideal that had no relation to biology or, for throughout history, practicality -- who could afford all those beds unless they were enormously wealthy? Sometimes we are happy apart, but most often, we want to be together.

So, that's how I ended up in the Perch - the top bunk. The Big Bed is so squished that, if I share the sleeping space with everyone, I stumble through the next day wondering what is wrong with me until I remember -- oh yeah, that was a terrible night's sleep. The Entrepeneur has no intention of sleeping in the Perch - not enough room for his long legs. So it's the girls and their father.

The Bee felt mad for a bit with me in a separate room, but she has been complaining that her teenage sister doesn't pay enough attention to her, so it's a nice chance for them to bond. I cherish seeing the girls sleep side by side. When I check on everyone, before I make my assent onto the Perch, I see the girls sleeping right next to each other, their bodies aligned together. Sisters, sharing their dream world together. Protected and watched over by the Entrepeneur, their father.

So, for the time being, it is I alone in the Perch Don't know how long this will last. I don't worry about it, because I know that this part of parenting is always changing. I know that my girls are growing so fast and that time moves on so relentlessly that it will be only a short, short time before they are really going out into the world on their own. This time period shall pass and become the source of cherished memories.

I sometimes enjoy being by myself, but most often I miss being next to everybody. There is something so lovely in sleeping all together. On the to-do is list is getting that duvet cleaned up so the bunk beds are ready for the girls when the girls are ready. And maybe a shopping trip for that Eastern King.

Just kidding.