Behind Bars

Cribs. I love them. I hate them.

For the first three months, Ads slept next to me. In the months that followed we slowly moved her into her crib. It was one of the hardest things I've had to do, I loved having her next to me. All warm and safe, she wasn't alone in a dark room behind bars but cuddled in my nook. But at the same time she had {and still does} the worst jimmy legs ever. So I was looking forward to getting sleep without being kicked all night long.

Fast forward a year and in a few momentary laps of judgement, I tried to put her in a big girl bed {yes it happened more than once and no I didn't learn the first time}. After hours of trying to get her to go to sleep {we tried everything, seriously everything} she was back in her crib. I just couldn't take it. I couldn't handle the night battle, the screaming and crying, kicking and yelling, not to mention everything Adilyn did. That was a failure of great magnitudes and on multiple occasions. I love that crib.

Tonight she woke up crying and all I wanted to do was hug and snuggle her but couldn't because the damn bars were in the way. So I hung over the side, feet hovering a few inches off the ground and I tried to snuggle her as naturally as I could. I instantly felt her body relax and her breathing slow down. She was back asleep in less than a minute. I hate this crib.

Everyday I find myself in the mixed emotion of putting my daughter in a crib. Some days it's a blessing and I'm so glad she's still in one {like when I need 5 minutes myself and I can let down my guard knowing she's completely safe}. Other days I hate it. Loath it is a better word. I should be able to cuddle my babes without anything coming between us.

I've come to realize I'm manic when it comes to the crib. Damn crib, I love you.

-J