Co-sleeping with kids - who needs it more?

Last couple of nights, both the kids have been in bed with us. It started off night before last, when it was pretty hot and the night air buzzing with vicious mosquitoes immune to any and every kind of remedy. The kids were very restless and after Puddi had woken up four times, wailing, Chubbocks woke up too and realised we had forgotten about the deal we made with him that he could sleep with us on Sunday night. He started kicking up a big fuss so A just brought both the kids in and we made what we could of the rest of the night, and went to work with giant headaches.

Last night, Chubbocks insisted on a make-up night in our room for Sunday's omission, and then Puds woke up restless again (she's learning about fear so having all kinds of nightmares) so they were back in. Our bed, while large, does get a bit cramped with four people in, especially when the two midgets insist on sleeping diagonally. At some point in the night, I woke up, back cramped from squeezing myself into the farthest corner of the bed that I could manage without falling out. I could hear the even rhythms of the 3 people I love best in the world rising and falling in unison. Puds was sprawled, one leg on Chubbocks, one arm on A's chest, head mashed up against the wall. Chubbocks lay spreadeagled, managing to land one leg on me, one on A and one hand on Puds. It was an incredibly connected feeling, and I loved having all four of us squashed into one bed...

And yet I was the one who moved the kids out. I'd been ready to do this for a long time before it happened, but A always insisted Chubbocks was too small. Finally, a few months before Puddi was due, I put my foot down and insisted we had to do it. I have friends who still co-sleep with their 2 kids, including over ten-year-olds and I really didn't want to do that. Luckily, Chubbocks had always slept in a separate bed from day one, so it was just a question of moving him to another room.

We had to slowly get him used to the concept - at that time he used to take to change very badly. Then I had to sweeten the deal, so I asked him what he would like in the new room and he said he wanted a jungle. So I set about painting a jungle. We'd got the walls done a pale green with a pale blue ceiling, but I had to paint the animals, and make sure they all looked friendly, even the tiger. I still remember going through the actual painting process, when I was about 7 months pregnant. I was huge, and used to get tired very quickly, so after every few bruch strokes, I'd have to sit and put my arm down. Once the paintings were done and the AC installed and the baby monitor bought, we were all set. By this time I was in my 9th month, and we had barely a week to go before Puds, so I figured we had to hurry up the process. I'd broken my ankle the night before, so my foot was in a fancy bandage too.

We hardened our hearts and presented it like a big adventure to chubbocks, who got quite excited and agreed easily to moving in. After reading him a couple of stories, we waited for him to fall asleep and then left. But I just couldn't get to sleep. I was convinced we wouldn't be able to hear him calling out because of the noise of 2 ACs. I tossed and turned. Then at one point, I thought I heard him cry out. I don't even remember jumping out of bed and rushing to his side, but before his first cry of 'mamma' had left his throat, I was already there, bandaged ankle and all. Patted him back and slowly limped back, at which point A fired me for getting out of bed and running when I was supposed to be resting my ankle. But whaddaya do, you're a mom? In fact, the whole first week, I could not sleep at all because I used to lie awake listening for him.

The first few nights, Chubs would manage to worm his way back for some part of the night, but over time he got used to it. With Puddi I was much more hardhearted and insisted she be shifted to the kids room as soon as we moved back from my parents place. By the time she was 3 months old, she had learned to go to sleep on her own if left alone in her crib. And now the kids like being next to each other at night - Chubbocks will pat her sometimes, or she reaches out of her crib to pull his hair, or gets up in the middle of the night and starts talking to him loudly.

But still, at least once a month, we all end up sharing one bed, mashed together like sardines, and I love every minute of it. Often, it's actually because A and I want to drag them in there when they would have ben perfectly happy to sleep in their own room, just so we can cuddle and tickle them and wake up all mussed up together.

Parting pangs

My son, little A, has become a big boy now. At 4 years 8 months, he thinks he is too old for as many hugs and kisses as I want to shower upon him. It has become a regular game at our place for me to call him angrily and say, "I really want to scold you right now", and the scolding consists of hugs and kisses. That's the only way I can satisfy my need to squeeze him!

How quickly they grow up. It seems like yesterday when he was so shy around other people that he used to cling to my skirt or pants or shirt when intriduced to strangers. Now when he goes to the park, on some days he'll actually tell me to stay at home because he wants to go with the maid.

I think the first pang of loss was when he turned into a little boy from being my baby. That was the day we got his hair shaved off. He had really silky black hair, which had become shoulder-length by the time he was a year old. It used to be quite wild and hang all over his face, giving him a manic look, and yet the utter babyness of that silky, downy hair was adorable. After his hair-shave, it grew back like normal hair - you know, nice normal hair, no longer baby hair. Suddenly, he looked and acted like a little boy, not mamma's itty-bitty baby.

I was pretty bad at keeping baby books and so on, so have no idea about his first word. But I do remember his first sentence. It was in the US, where we were on holiday, when he was 2 and a half years old. We were driving back from Napa with my sister's family, and Ali, my husband, was busy pulling little A's chubby cheeks. The little guy bore it for a while and then it got too much. "Ali! What are you doing my face?" he demanded belligerently. Now he speaks not sentences but paragraphs, full of imaginative stories and 'jokes'(at this age, jokes tend to be scatalogical!). I miss his funny uses of language and the words he used to make up.

I remember his toddler walk when I see the Puddi stomping around. The first time he wore shoes, he carefully lifted his feet way up in the air at each step, as if scared that they would not move otherwise. Now he has a wardrobe of different types of shoes and pulls them on and off by himself.

Before he was born, I made several promises to myself and to him, among which one was that I would hold him close but not hold him back. Each time he moves from one stage of growth and maturity to the next, I feel the urge to break that promise and hold him back. I want to keep him as my baby a little longer, before friends and peer groups become his key influences. I want to preserve his innocence and faith in the world around us as long as I can. If I could, I would turn back the clock and relive the last 56 months, and with the hindsight of knowing how quickly they pass, relish each and every moment all the more. I would take hundreds more photos. I would sing more songs, and scold less and laugh more...

Yet everyday when I get home and find that he has scribbled all over my newest tablecloth with his crayon/ permanent marker or thrown yet another tantrum, I hold my head and ask myself, "How long before he grows up?"

Sibling love

My kids are as yet pretty young and have an age-gap of just three years. Though my daughter, littler a is just 16 months old, she shows signs of being spiriteed and having a temper, so she and my 4 and a half year old son do squabble from time to time. But yesterday night, little A, our son, said something amazing.

"We didn't have any fun before Puddi* came, na?"

My husband, A, said, "Of course we did. Why do you say that?"

Little A, "Because she's so cute and so fun to be around."

* Puddi is our unlovely nickname for littler a.