The Family Bed

My husband and I were talking about the family bed, where our children, ages 4 and just 6, still sleep when they're so inclined, which is pretty much every night. They start out in their own room, and quite happy about it for the most part, but some time in the middle of the night they migrate to the comfort of their parents' room. We were talking about the subtle, and not so subtle, judgment we sometimes feel emanating from a beloved librarian when it comes to our homeschool group and comparing it to that same feeling we got when we were talking about the family bed.

"It's just baby jail!" my husband said of the crib we never used. Not original, but true enough. "They need to learn to self-soothe and put themselves to sleep," we were told by various family members (including all the grandparents) and friends. It dawned on me, tonight, as we rehashed this old wound - which indeed it was, because I listened to it once or twice against my gut, resulting in a couple of harrowing and truly horrible evenings for us and our first baby - that it was beyond ridiculous to expect a baby - who couldn't talk, couldn't walk, couldn't reach anything: completely helpless - to comfort herself, alone, without her parents.

"That's what's wrong with people today," my husband said. And it's true. Our kids are confident, they are not afraid, they don't feel vulnerable, they are not meepy, scared, or mousy. And they learned to put themselves to sleep just fine when they felt secure enough.