We never did the cosleeping thing. With twins (and two high-needs cats) there just was never room in our queen-sized bed. We did the basinet that wedged up to the side of our bed for the first three months, and then the kids were banished to their room (where they slept together in one crib until around six months). Had I had more time during the first year of their lives, I'm sure I could have managed to feel really guilty about this. Maybe I should have squeezed in some time between feeling guilty about going back to work, not enjoying nursing more, stressing that they weren't getting enough sleep, food, time, sun, air, etc... Alas, it's one of the things I forgot to worry about. But on our last vacation to the Madonna Inn, Tom and I took turns sleeping with the kids. I napped with them in our totally blacked out bedroom (we stayed in the Fox and Hound suite!). It was heaven. Two warm little chlorine-smelling bodies snuggled up to me as we all dozed together. I brought a book and a nightlight and would read while they slumbered. At night, Tom would sleep with them and I'd use the sofa bed in the living room. Not ideal for Tom and I, but here's the deal: It was our happiest vacay ever. We had great days full of fun activities and they ended peacefully as the kids climbed into bed with dad. We didn't have the hour-long struggle to get them to sleep. The kids are four and way more flexible, but I can't help wonder if there's some kind of innate need to snuggle up next to mom and dad that just brings down their anxiety instantly. Then it's back to real life. Back to home and schedules and starting school and Tom and I desperate to put the kids down so that we can watch The Daily Show in silence. But I made a deal with the kids: I told them that I would nap with them on weekends provided they actually slept. They've readily accepted the challenge. And now that naps may soon be a thing of the past, I'm savoring every last minute of it.
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