Sharing A Room: Part One

I'm sorry, ma'am, but did you just stand in the doorway of your children's room for 15 minutes and glare at your toddler until he fell asleep?

Yes.  Yes, I did.

I literally just guilted my child to sleep.  Really?  Did I really just do that?  Yup.  Sure did.  I stood in the doorway with my hands on my hips and my eyebrow raised in the, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" kind of way until my son laid down, stopped peeking at me and went the hell to sleep.  I glared him into submission because this is the umpteenth day in a row that he has jumped up and down and squealed and thrown lovies and asked for water and hollered my infant's name until my infant finally woke up out of his blissful slumber and screamed for the next hour and half.

I could not do it again.  I am tired.  I am pissed off.  I am DETERMINED to make this sharing a room thing work.  Shit, I HAVE to make this sharing a room thing work.  The only other place I can put a kid is in the closet, and that just opens up a whole can of later-in-life worms.  (He can go in or come out of the closet whenever he wants, but I'm not forcing him into either.  That's just rude.)

Anyway, I'm feeling like a crappy, controlling, psychotic mother for doing what I just did, but they need to sleep and they need to work this thing out.  It has to happen.  People have been sharing rooms for eons; they can do this.  I think.  But can I do this?

I have been reassured over and over that they will adjust.  People swear up and down that they get used to each other's noises and will be able to sleep through anything the other one can dish out.  "They" say to just give it time and the sleep will come.  But, Oh. My. God.  WHEN WILL THE SLEEP COME?!?!?  I need the sleep.  They need the sleep.  Sleep needs to be happening in this house.  And if that means that I guilt my toddler to sleep, apparently that is what I will do.  I won't like it and I won't feel good about it, but I will feel damn good when both of those children GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP.

(By the way, Adam Mansbach is a genius.  If you have children and have not yet seen the book with the above title, RUN to the bookstore and get it.  Now.  Go.  Seriously.)