We have never been a bed sharing family. There was no co-sleeping in years gone by, no snuggly sleepovers, no bundling ourselves together in a hotel room, not of any kind, at any time. I don’t have anything against it per se it has just never worked for our family and it seems that the girls (and us) like the independence and space of our own beds.
The echo of jumbled up voices as you walk hand in hand into a room full of people you barely know. The mix of tiny humans ranging from leg cuddlers to runners, observers to shouters and everything in between. The bright colours and the hum of chatter accompanied by tea and coffee offers over the constant almost indistinguishable sound of a bouncy castle motor. I am of course talking about a child’s birthday party.
Last week it was a friends little boys 3rd birthday. 3! It seems so old, and yet I remember the day he was born. The anticipation of a text from our friends as I felt my very own baby girl kick around inside of me.