Rebecca Eckler is one of Canada's most talked about newspaper columnists, the author of Knocked Up: Confessions of a Hip Mother to Be, which has been translated into nine languages. Also the author of the bestsellers, Wiped!, Toddlers Gone Wild, and Rotten Apple, the first in a YA series. Random thoughts on life in the competitive world of modern mommyhood. Blog will be loved by trendy mothers who still feel, or often feel, that the most important word in "mommee" is ME!

Friday, January 26, 2007

Sleeping Logistics with Toddlers....

Last night was the first night I slept in the marital bed for two weeks.

We just got back from Maui, where we enjoyed two glorious weeks. Things have changed. Not here, but on vacation.

How do you parents work it when you travel with your kids?

I slept with The Dictator for two weeks, while The Fiance slept in a cot. I know. I know. But we could not figure out the logistics of sleeping in a hotel room, with The Dictator.

I remember being a kid and traveling with my parents and my three brothers. We all shared one room. That's right. Six of us somehow managed to share a hotel room. And we're all still alive.

My parents would bring sleeping bags. I would sleep with my mother in one bed. My dad would share a bed with one of my brothers and two of my other brothers would sleep in sleeping bags.

I remember being put to sleep and my parents hanging out in the washroom, reading until they were ready to go to bed.

I've always been an awful sleeper. Seriously. I used to sleep walk.

Once, my father found me after I turned on all the lights on in the house and was making myself a bowl of cereal at 2 a.m. I was, like, nine. I told him, in my sleep, that I didn't want to be late for school.

I also used to wake up and jump up and down on the bed in the middle of the night, in my sleep. I also thrash around. A lot. I swear, the fiance has the bruises to prove it.

Once, on one of our road trips with my entire family (the six of us in a hotel room thing) I kicked my mother so hard in the middle of the night, that she kicked me right back. And it hurt.

After that, when we went on vacation, I slept on a sleeping bag on the floor.

Anyway. The way our room was set up in Maui was there were two rooms. One with the big bed, and the other room had a table, couch, and, um, cot.

The fiance and I like to go out for dinner on vacations. Nice dinner. And by nice, I mean I have dessert. You know, leisurely dinners, where we don't eat at 4:45 p.m. in front of the television like we do at home.

So we'd get a sitter to come almost every night so we could go for dinner. But the way to room was set up was that the entrance went into the room with the cot.

Obviously, THE MOST IMPORTANT THING is NEVER TO WAKE THE CHILD. She couldn't take the cot because when we walked in, she'd wake up. Plus, a gal needs to watch American Idol. And The Dictator was going to bed at 6:30 p.m.

So, The Dictator was put to sleep in the bed, where we could close the door, and we could come into the room without watching her and I could watch American Idol. And because the most important thing is NEVER TO WAKE the child, I'd sleep with her and the poor fiance had to sleep in the tiny cot.

I told him he could sleep with The Dictator, and I'd take the cot, but he refused.

"I slept ok, but not great," I'd tell him in the morning. "She always wants to share my pillow with me and she peed all over the bed!"

Then The Fiance would give me a look and say, "I slept in a cot!" And, he's not a small guy either. So I couldn't really complain that much about sleeping in a wet pee bed with two inches of space. I mean, at least I was in a real bed.

We got in at 1 a.m. last night. I slept with The fiance. It was nice to have my own pillow. It was nice not to wake up in a puddle of pee.