When the girls were first born, I was all about co-sleeping. It just made life so much easier. I never had to actually wake up for late night feedings, because they'd just find their way to a boob and feed themselves. I wasn't getting amazing sleeping since I was worried about crushing a baby. But to me, it was decent enough and a better option than having to actually wake up and sit while trying to feed a child.
Co-sleeping lasted about 10 months with each girl. Basically until they were weaned from breastfeeding. The transition from my bed to their own was relatively simple. For the most part, we had a great routine.
Towards the end of John's deployment, Veronica made her way back into bed with me. Getting her out was a nightmare. Now we're facing the same dilemma with Adriana. She had fantastic sleep habits before we got to Hawaii, but the move here really messed her up.
Lately, it feels like I'm getting beat up in my own bed. I imagine it had to be something like sleeping next to the bundle of joy that is Johnny Manziel. Complete with the Heisman pose. A few nights ago there was an extended arm which led to a palm in my face accompanied by a knee to the stomach.
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