New four month photos of our scrappy girl!

Keira has always had her own bed. Even before we started using the crib in her room, she slept in a little Moses basket that we kept by our bedside. Although neither of us ever formally discussed it, Felix and I somehow decided against the "family bed" concept. I suppose we felt it was important from the very beginning to give our tiny munchkin her independence.

Well, she's certainly independent.

When we went to LA in September, we stayed at the Lin's house. With one big bed to share, we felt it would be best to let Keira sleep between us, just so there would be no chance of her rolling off.

It was awful. Just awful.

Our every little movement would disturb Keira's sleep, and her tiny movements would disturb ours. The first night, we plunked her down exactly in the middle of the bed. Bad idea. Since Keira sleeps on her side, Felix hardly had any room and fell victim to Keira's tiny pokes and kicks. The next evening, we placed her a little off center, and I agreed to sleep with Keira facing me instead. Another bad idea. Sometime during the night, my arm must have fallen across her body. I was blearily awoken by an unhappy baby, beating my forearm with tiny little fists and pummelling my torso with tiny little feet. I mumbled my apologies, and the two of us grumpily fell back to sleep. Night after night, it was chaotic and exhausting. I vowed never to use family bed agin.

I think I've already talked about parental vows; you should never make them. Sure enough, I found myself looking at my adorable daughter last week, and after our usual morning routine, I felt an overwhelming urge to put her down for a nap with me. Picture it - mommy and daughter snuggled up together under the covers. Doesn't that sound wonderfully sweet? I thought so. I laid Keira down on the bed facing me and pulled the soft blankets up over us. We smiled at each other, and she cooed quietly, absolutely melting my heart. I gently closed my eyes and held her while we fell asleep. No, I'm sorry - I mean while I tried to fall asleep.

Once Keira realized that this was it, she got mad. Up popped her tiny little fists, pounding on my nose and grabbing at my hair. She churned her legs and wanted absolutely nothing to do with my precious mommy-daughter moment. Dismayed, I tried to calm her down. I whispered to her that I loved her, that I felt sleepy, that I was hoping to take a lovely nap with my beautiful baby. No, NO, NO!

Finally, I gave in and threw back the covers. I reluctantly picked up my squirming sweetheart and carried her back downstairs to her room, laying her down in her crib. I swear - she let out a huge sigh of relief, turned on her side, and immediately closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Me? I trudged back upstairs and climbed back into bed alone, reluctantly accepting that parenthood visions are not always the same as parenthood realities. Another lesson learned.

Insomnia.

Like mother, like daughter - I have always loved sleep as much as it seems Keira does. Snuggling in bed amidst soft pillows and a down comforter. Feeling your mind and body spin away as you drift to sleep. Ahhh...

In college, I was notorious for napping anytime, anywhere. Friends would drop by for a visit only to find my door wide open, and me - sound asleep in the glorious warmth of my wonderful bed. Once, I woke up to discover Post-It notes covering me from head to toe, with "WAKE UP!" and "NO NAPPING ALLOWED!" scribbled all over. I simply loved my naps. Loved my sleep.

Now, everything is different.

When I was pregnant, any semblance of control I had over my body was lost. I found myself getting up two...then three...then four or even five times a night to take a potty break. My legs would cramp and randomly seize in pain, startling me awake. Dreams and comfort were chased away by bizarre aches and bouts of sleeplessness. It was terrible, and I longed for it to end.

What a foolish thought! Once the baby was born, I slept even less. I groggily stumbled through a seemingly neverending cycle of diaper changes, feedings, and naps. Nighttime became like daytime, and I traded sleep for a crazy mix of maternal highs and pure adrenaline. I remember turning to Felix one morning and telling him that I had just come to one of the worst realizations of my life - I didn't think I would ever be allowed to sleep in again.

No wonder I only posted one blog per month during Keira's first weeks of life.

My former joys of sleep, however, have been replaced by new joys of motherhood. I love standing over Keira when she first wakes up, a huge smile on her face because she sees me. I love resting my cheek on her warm little head, while I hold her close and give her her breakfast bottle. I love rocking her and singing her a little song, as I put her back down for her morning nap. I love every moment of our mommy-daughter routine, all of which transpires before 8am.

But I miss my sleep. I find myself restlessly watching the clock in the evening, unable or unwilling to let go and climb in bed. The precious hours of my day are devoured by mommy-time, business-time, student-time, eating-time, friend-time, family-time...and before I even realize what has happened, the day is gone. What happened to the part of my life where I could just be me? When did Kathy's time disappear, and how do I get it back?

Struggling to preserve a niche for myself, I play tug-of-war with my need to sleep and my need to simply be. Every minute is already spoken for, claimed by some important reason or necessary obligation. As for my time, my moments, my opportunities - I throw sleep to the wind in order to cling to those stolen bits and pieces.

My old love and companion, back when I could revel and blissfully lose myself in sleep, is long gone. I don't know if that will ever come back. In the meantime, I am just trying to figure things out, wandering through a bewildering mess of alternating insomnia and exhaustion.