When I was younger I slept like a baby. Even when I was an actual baby. I was always in bed by 9pm, (meaning that I missed most of the interesting family incidents), and would sleep pretty solidly through the night until 7am. I would even go to the toilet without waking up, a fact my Grandad would testify to if he was still alive, me having walked in on him in the middle of the night, causing him to leap from the toilet just before I sat down on his lap.

And then I had a baby.

Goodbye sleep, so long good friend, I enjoyed our time together.

It’s not so much that Bee was a bad sleeper, she really wasn’t, but there is a special secret switch in your brain that gets flicked when you become a mother that means that from that point on you always sleep with one ear open, just in case.

And then Belle was born and I was well and truly screwed.

She has many charming qualities, but the ability to sleep for longer than 40 minutes at a time until the age of about four was not one of them.

And so here I am, left with an annoying and yet fairly impressive ability to guess the time at any moment to within about eight minutes, so aware am I of the passing of time throughout the night. Impressive maybe, but not hugely restful. View Post

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Belle has always been a little high-maintenance in the sleep department. It’s not her fault of course (just in case you are reading Belle), it’s just that some children seem to find it difficult to sleep. They get scared easily, they find it hard to relax in their own beds, and it can quickly become a vicious circle of associating their bed and bedroom with feeling anxious or lonely.

Although Belle spent quite a lot of time in my bed as a young child (and would now if I let her), I have always tried to keep her bedroom as comfortable and relaxing as possible, and to not make it a place that she connects with anger or stress. We do this by making sure she has her favourite things around her, choosing colours for the walls and furniture that she likes, putting up pictures and photographs and generally trying to make it as welcoming as possible. View Post

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When you get to the point where you are only comfortable sleeping in one particular position, curled up on your right hand side, one leg drawn up to your chest, you know it’s probably time to get a new mattress.

(Or seek psychiatric help.)

Perfect timing then, in lieu of an offer of counselling, for a post about Dreams Beds.

(Oh yes, I am so smooth!)

I have to confess that I’ve never been terribly good at spending money on things like furniture. Apart from my current bed, my sofa is about the only thing in my whole house that I have bought new and paid more than about twenty quid for, and even that was a bit of a whim.

I bought my bed about ten years ago, but after all this time it would be fair to say that the mattress has probably seen better days. Wear and tear I call it. Who shares a bed with a breastfed toddler and doesn’t have a few dubious stains?

*looks slightly ashamed and hopes no-one ever sees*

So, time for a new bed.

I thought I’d have a look at the range at Dreams Beds, pick a few of my favourites, and then if you, my faithful readers, should want to club together to get me a Christmas gift, you’d know where to go.

Here then is my top three. First off, a bit of a classic – a sleigh style bed in solid oak. Pretty lovely isn’t it? Plus at the moment it is a bargain at only £599 instead of £1,499:

"oak bedstead"

Next up, the hi-tech choice. Not only does this bed include a TV, it is also upholstered in a “sumptuous metallic-weave fabric which features rich tones of taupe, mink and silver, with the addition of subtle nickel and amethyst hues”. I thought that sounded very Star Trek:

"TV bed"

And finally, my favourite, (and actually the cheapest, hint hint), the totally decadent option. Who wouldn’t feel totally desirable lying in this absolutely gorgeous dark purple velvet bed?

"velvet bed"

Sweet dreams!

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‘You remember how it was sometimes when you were a kid? You got into bed, and then suddenly it was morning, with no interval in between.’

I read this line in a book yesterday and longed for those days. When I was a child I was such a deep sleeper that my mum and sister would sometimes shake me and shout in my face to try to wake me, worrying I had slipped into some sort of coma in the night.

I don’t know whether it is becoming a parent, or simply adulthood, (as they both happened to me at the same time), but it has been about 17 years now since I slept like that. After thinking about it for a bit, and sighing heavily and indulgently to myself, I thought I might write about a typical night for me – I know, you’re yawning just thinking about it, that’s how evocative my writing is…*

And then last night, I had such a terrible night’s sleep, I just had to share. It went something like this:

10.30pm: Come to bed, with warm drink, feeling optimistic. Read for a bit until Boyfriend starts snoring. Turn off light.

11.00pm: Lie in the dark for a while, wondering what the weather will be like tomorrow, deciding what to wear. Try to remember if we have bread. Make mental note to self to change kitchen bin in the morning, and to become thin/fit this week.

Midnight: Wake from dream about Nazi massacre, where I’ve had to step over the body of Hitler, unsure whether he is actually dead or not, and scared he may grab my ankle at any moment. Lie awake for a while recalling all the things I made myself remember an hour ago. Drift back to sleep, waking every ten minutes or so to rearrange duvet, fidget etc.

2.30am: Just entering satisfying period of deep sleep when Boyfriend’s phone rings. Not sure what is happening in sleepy state. Boyfriend goes back to sleep, holding his phone with the screen shining in my face.

2.45am: Phone rings again. Poke boyfriend awake. It is Chinese bed and breakfast owner wondering if he has checked in. Yes he did, he says, two weeks ago. Chinese bed and breakfast owner is not convinced. Boyfriend shouts at Chinese bed and breakfast owner that it is the middle of the night.

3.00am: Boyfriend goes back to sleep instantly, while I lie awake for an hour, thinking about what it would be like to be a Chinese bed and breakfast owner, and trying to work out the time in China. Get up and go to the toilet for a change of scenery.

4.30am: Phone rings again. It is Chinese bed and breakfast owner, calling to apologise for disturbing us earlier. Have dream about ballroom dancing with dead Granddad. Wake up feeling a bit disturbed for a while.

5.30am: Scratch myself awake on spiky duvet. Lie awake for a while regretting choice of jewel encrusted bedding set.

8.15am: Phone rings again. Is Boyfriend’s mother. ‘No,’ says Boyfriend, ‘there is no school today.’ Make Boyfriend make me tea and then complain about it when it arrives.

Spend rest of day moaning about feeling tired.

Really, I am a joy to share a bed with. Is this just me, or just how grown-ups sleep?

*Evocative. Not dull.

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Do you like waking in the night to find a snoring walrus sprawled diagonally across the bed, leaving you curled up in a ball on the edge?

No?

Surely everyone likes being woken by a swift kick in the shin?

Really not?

In that case, you probably want to make a mental note never to share a bed with me.

When I was younger, I was a ridiculously deep sleeper, to the point that I would often seriously worry my mum and my sister, who could shout in my face and forcefully shake me and I wouldn’t wake. When you become a mother though, deep sleep goes out the window and you’re resigned instead to nights spent with one ear open, just in case. View Post

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Before you start thinking ‘three in a bed, what’s not to love?…’, let me make it clear I am talking babies here.

Before you have them, other parents joke about ‘sleepless nights’, but until you become a parent yourself you just don’t appreciate the hell of being kept awake all night by the horrendous squawky crying and irritating writhing that babies combine so well.

Anyway, regular readers will have gathered by now that my parenting style is fairly ‘instinctive’, (a euphemism my critics may say for lazy or ill-informed), and the books I read and the friendships I form are chosen very carefully, designed to support rather than inform the choices I make.

We all know that you can find a study (or friend) to back up any argument, and I always manage to justify the decisions I make. It’s a bit like shopping – “But these shoes were in the sale, so technically I have saved money, and they go with everything, so represent excellent cost per wear value..”

I’d be the first to admit that my parenting isn’t always selfless, but honestly, TV can be terribly educational you know. There are some choices I make though that, although they have not made my life easy for me at the time, I feel confident were absolutely the right thing to do for us.

One of these is sleep. Bee slept through the night from six weeks old. I don’t say this in a gloating way, it’s just a fact. Although at the time I smugly put it down to my ‘laid back parenting style’ (oh what a young foolish woman I was), on reflection I realise it was just luck. She did however sleep in the same room as me, and at times in a bed pushed right up against mine, until she was at least 18 months old. If I’m honest this was less a philosophical standpoint and more a matter of logistics, living as we were then with my mum in one bedroom. It felt right though, and I never had the urge to push her out into her own room.

And then I had Belle.

It would be fair to say that Belle didn’t sleep quite as well as her sister. In fact, she woke up regularly at hourly intervals throughout the night until she was about two, and it was only when she started school that she began to sleep right through.

Many of these nights were spent with her in our bed, often with her Dad relegated to a mattress on the floor. When she got older she moved into her own room, but this just meant I had further to stumble in the night when she woke crying, and that I slept even less. If you’ve ever done that teenage thing of sharing a single bed with another person, it’s like that, only worse, as you can’t really shove a toddler against the wall in protest of them stealing all the covers. Well you can, but I believe it is frowned upon in parenting circles.

My point is…what is my point?…ah yes, my point is that I never resorted to controlled crying. Babies only really have one way of telling us something is wrong, and although it’s a shame that the one way is so loud and piercing, it has a purpose. Whatever the parenting gurus like to have us believe, babies don’t cry as some kind of elaborate mind game, to test us, or to prove a point. They cry because they are upset and need comforting. So when my babies cried, I comforted them. Sounds obvious doesn’t it, but there are plenty of parents who don’t do it.

I was delighted therefore to have my choices validated this weekend in The Guardian  by psychologist Oliver James. James’ examination of the evidence shows that ‘unresponsiveness’, i.e. ignoring your baby when it cries, has been shown to have serious long-term consequences. Having your cries go unheard as a child can make you insecure as an adult and lead to emotional vulnerability in your future relationships. James also highlights how unique we are in this country in believing babies should be sleeping alone – 79% of  societies around the world normally have their infants in the same room, 44% in the same bed.

So why are co-sleepers so often made to feel like freaks? When ever anyone tells me their baby shares their bed, it tends to be in a conspiratorial whisper – ‘I know I shouldn’t, but…’. We feel guilty, weak maybe, despite the evidence showing we’re actually setting our kids up for a healthier adult life.

I thorny subject maybe, but I’m happy at least that one of my parenting choices has turned out to be a good one. Now all I need is a study showing Oreos make a wholesome breakfast and I’m set.

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