Split Second Decisions

My darling Quinn has slept with me for the last two years. yep, and I have loved every minute of it. There are two camps of parents with regard to sleeping children--let-them-sleep-where-they-want vs. they-will-sleep-in-their-beds camps. When Quinn was born, we were the TWSITB parents. Quinn went to the crib the first night and for the next three years, including all the night nursings, I would be there for him before he took an in-between breath in the midst of a cry. Mike hated how I slept so light, one ear always open and body ready to respond. Quinn developed excellent sleep habits. He slept through the night at 8 weeks and we never struggled getting him to sleep. He napped perfectly. He was well known to be a sleeper. One night, in the summer of 2013, there was a moth. In Quinn's eyes, the moth had a wingspan that was greater than a raptor and fangs that rival a cobra's venomous fangs. That darned moth was flitting around Quinn's lamp. He never slept in his bed again. I became a LTSWTW parent. For every night of the next two-ish years--in hotel rooms, at family's houses, in the RV, at home--Quinn was right by my side. And I loved it. I felt his breathing through two croup outbreaks and several colds. I had the bucket ready for two vomit parties. I was present during night terrors. I assisted with the middle of the night bathroom runs. I. was. present. Well, last night was a night like all others. We all head upstairs around 8 to potty, brush teeth, read a book and lights out, hopefully by 8:30. All went according to plan; we read a book called "There's no Such Thing as Monsters" about Little Bear sleeping away from Big Bear, in his own bed. And all the monsters that he thought he saw in his room, all alone, were debunked. And Big Bear was so proud. And sad. Because he was alone. Anyway, we finish reading our book and Quinn--who appeared in that moment to be 18 years old--got up and said "I'm sleeping in my bed tonight". whoa! wait! Can we talk about this? I don't want to say any of this, but my heart just about split in half. And that boy walked us into his bedroom, where he clearly defined how the room was to remain as he said good night (light on, blind up, door open, all lovies in the bed (he's never slept with a lovie...)), gave hugs and kisses, and said good night. He was up 3 minutes later to use the master bathroom (did I see a crack in his decision right there? please...), and 5 minutes later he called me up (YES! second thoughts!) to get a quick lesson on moths in the winter time. I assured him that there are no moths in the winter, that they all freeze, and yes, if we stayed outside we would freeze too. And yes--moths are warm blooded. oh, and no wasps either. Feeling safe, he trounced off to bed. This morning, he woke on his own (having aged to 30-something over night) knowing that school was back on today, came downstairs and retrieved his "coffee-juice" and crawled into our bed to watch morning cartoons. His first words to me: "Mama, are you proud of me?" Am I proud?? Heart-broken, lonely, but incredibly proud--yes. As is typical for my amazing child (yes, it's highly likely I'm the only one who thinks he's amazing, and that's ok by me), he makes a decision, probably after internally weighing the pros and cons, mentally practicing what moves were necessary--and did it. Proud doesn't begin to describe.