The travel blackout blind has come down, books I plan to read have returned to my bedside table and I’m now sleeping with the monitor. Yes, E has finally moved into his own room.
And I feel, to use a much over-used phrase, a mixture of emotions. I’ve shared a bedroom with my son for the last seven months, our night time bond going back longer to when his kicks and somersaults first put in an appearance. He has only moved across the hall, but it represents another milestone as E rockets through babyhood.
However, the collection of bruises on my legs from stumbling into the bed frame on a nightly basis were starting to join up and the suggestion that E might sleep better in his own room was too great a temptation*.
Rather than set a date for the move,
we I just decided that now was as good a time as any.
My lovely mum had finished bunting to go across the ceiling and I, having not inherited her creative flair, bought some wall stickers. It looks a little, erm, bright, but the aim was to give E lots of things to look at, encouraging him to stay calm in his bed and even, dare I say it, help him back to sleep.
What I didn’t think about was how the decorations would impact on getting E off to sleep. He needs very little to spark his interest and now has cars, flags and trains to draw his attention away from the boring business of resting.
*four days in and it’s too soon to say if the sleep habits have improved. Well, I have seen a little light at the end of the tunnel, but am not going to jinx it. Especially after this afternoon’s overtired screaming fit…