Mission: Impossible

I remember when I was in college I had an economics professor who...how can I say it....was very very....granola.  We got the day off of class for Earth Day (which I wasn't complaining about, don't get me wrong).  He used okra as the product in a lot of his supply/demand examples.  He wore the same pair of khaki pants every day.  All a little odd, but whatever.  Then came the day he told us about how he and his wife just had their second baby and he was having a really hard time getting any sleep because at his house they had a a "family bed."  What the heck is that? we all wondered.  He explained:  He and his wife and his two kids all slept together in the same bed every night.    

On purpose.

Until then, I had thought he was a little strange.  But after the "family bed" revelation, I decided that the poor guy had apparently lost his grip on reality. Only someone who was COMPLETELY unhinged would want little kids in their bed every night.  Nutso.

Of course, I had no kids, so I knew it all.  Now that I have my own kids, have my views on the "family bed" changed?  

Nope.  I may have changed a LOT of my pre-kid perceptions, but that one remains firmly in place.  

If anything, I think he is crazier than ever.  I find it impossible to sleep with any little people snuggled into my armpit, and so it is my mission in life to NOT have any kids in my bed. Lately, it seems like Mission: Impossible.  

Arden and Dax are both great sleepers.  They have an off night here and there, but I can always convince them to go back to their own beds, and with the help of some lullabies, some blankies and some snugly toys, they are back to sleep (and consequently, so am I).  My night time problem is Cora.  

For the past few weeks-going-on-months she wakes up sometime between 1 a.m. and 5 a.m. nearly EVERY SINGLE NIGHT.  She wanders into our room, and tries to sneak into bed between me and Preston.  The only problem with this little arrangement is that the bed quickly ends up looking like this:

Cora starts out sleeping normally, but within what seems like five minutes, she has somehow turned herself completely horizontally across the middle of the bed.  Her head is burrowed into my guts and her feet are kicking Preston relentlessly, while both of us teeter on the very edge of our respective sides of the bed. After a couple of nights of that nonsense, we knew it couldn't go on.  We looked at each other through our bleary eyes and made the decision that co-sleeping with Cora was NOT an option.  

The next night, Cora (of course) tried to sneak into our bed again.  I heaved a sigh and told her that she had to sleep in her own bed.  She disagreed.  I picked her up and headed down the hall to her room.  Cora started screaming about how she was scared (of what, she wasn't--and still isn't--quite sure) and screamed and screamed and screamed.  This went on for a few nights.  Inevitably, screaming is contagious (have you noticed?) and before long Preston or I would join in. You know, something awesome like "STOP SCREEEAMING!!  YOU ARE GOING TO WAKE EVERYONE UUUP!" All-night par-tay at the Zaugg house!

Fun times.

Some more background:  Sometimes my Preston snores.  Kinda loudly. When this happens, I go and sleep on our nice comfy couch in the snore-free living room.  One night I had retreated to the couch before Cora started her night-time ritual.  She had tried to get in bed with Preston and was promptly booted out.  She came in search of me and found me on the couch.  She then tried to get on the couch with me, but it is even smaller than my bed and NO WAY was that going to work for me.  However, in my sleepy stupor, I pointed at the nearby love seat and told her she could sleep there if she promised to be QUIET.  She happily settled down, and we slept peacefully until morning.

Now Cora plans ahead.  She brings her pillow and blanket with her when she tries to sneak into our bed. When she is told that she can't sleep there, she now helpfully says, "Okay, mom.  Let's go sleep downstairs.  You sleep on the big couch and I will sleep on the little couch.  Okay?  Come on."  She grabs my pillow and runs down the stairs.  She puts my pillow on the couch and plops herself down on the love seat and snuggles in.  I wander down the stairs with every intention of taking her back to her own bed in her own room...

Have I mentioned the stubborn streak that runs through my Corbiecakes?  It is deeeeep and wiiiide.  I can battle wills with her during the day and come out victorious (exhausted, but victorious), but at 3 a.m. she knows she has me beat.  At 3 a.m. I don't care about winning.  I don't care about long-term consequences. I don't care about much of anything.  All I care about at 3 a.m. is getting back to sleep as soon as possible. So...

When I see my pillow on the couch, all ready for my sleepy head, I usually grab a blanket and fall like a redwood tree down on that comfy couch and head off to dreamland on the express train.

I know, I am horrible.  But guess what happens when I DO get up the strength to put her back into her own bed?  This is what I find when I go to check on her:  An empty bed in Cora's room.  And in Arden's room?  This:

Poor Arden.  She complains in the morning that Cora kicks her all night, and Arden is a little tired and grouchy all day.  I feel ya, Arden.  Been there, done that.

So.  Experienced mommas out there:  HELP.  Is this just a phase that she will hopefully grow out of (soon)?  Please tell me you have a secret trick to fix it that doesn't involve hours of screaming in the wee hours of the morning.  

Cuz if my options are (1) hours of screaming in the wee hours vs. (2) sleeping peacefully on the couch for the rest of my days....

Couch wins.