There is a light at the end of the tunnel. I can see it, although dim, I'm positive it's there. It is right? Please please please tell me it is.
I don't think the hubby and I have spent one night alone in our bed in the last 4 years. Not counting our honeymoon, but that wasn't our bed. That was some funked up vintage Vegas mattress in the jewel that is The Golden Nugget.
Before Sugarbaby was conceived (bet you're wondering how that happened) we thought that the end was near. The Monster had been sleeping in his own bed since Cashman was born and he generally stayed in there most of the night. Not to say that if he did wake up, I either had to get up and turn his movie back on, or relent, and let him crawl in bed with us. Cashman was a guaranteed bed partner every night. He started off in his own, but no later than midnight he crept in, stealth as a ninja and claimed his parcel of bed without the hubby or I ever stirring.
While I was pregnant, I got sick and tired of waking up with one between me and hubby and one using my ankles as a pillow. I needed room. Lots of room. I considered throwing elbows, issuing ultimatums, locking the doors, but I was too much of a softie, and you could say my pleas fell on sleeping ears. So instead, I woke up as much as possible to haul each child in turn back to his own bed. It was not fun.
Along comes sweet Sugarbaby. This three day old infant now had claim to Cashman's earlier staked territory. He was a bit disgruntled, but tried to take it in stride. He went to his room each night at bedtime, but still tried to come into ours in the wee hours. I thought I could solve this by making him a pallet on the floor. This just cut the night into thirds instead of in half. One third spent in his bed, one third on the pallet, one third trying to reclaim his lost bed position. The struggle never ended, and still it goes on.
We're in a new house and we still haven't had our bed to ourselves for one night. Most evenings the hubby stays up a bit later than me and when he does venture to our room, he most often heads right back to the couch. There's no place for him to lay down. Our king size bed is littered with bodies. And apparently...I snore like a wildebeest.