So we have finally succeeded in getting the kids to sleep in their own bedroom. Finally, the hubs and I have our bedroom all to ourselves. Like I normally do with any big decision, I spent months mulling over the pros and cons of separating the 5-year-old from us.

Pro: It gives us more privacy. That’s something that I have always craved. Now I can make all the noise I want or need to make based on the circumstances by which said noise may be required. Read: mind-blowing s-e-x. lol! We no longer have to rush it or go to a different room or do it in the middle of the day while the kids are out playing. We can now take all the time that we need or want.

Con: The kids now also have their privacy, which means I’m no longer privy to their childhood secrets unless they deem me worthy of sharing it to. This sucks especially since I’m a helicopter mom.

Pro: This privacy thing also means that the hubs and I can go on with our usual long conversations without having to worry about waking the kids up. Our voices can grow loud sometimes while making passionate speeches or telling enchanting tales.

Con:  It also means that we often forget the time and can continue with our conversations well into the wee hours of the morning. So we’re currently sporting eye bags that are bigger than the hubs’ North Face luggage. And we’re both cranky from lack of sleep.

I can endure all those cons, though. The one thing that I’ve really had a hard time coping with was the guilt. I feel so guilty about allowing my youngest kid to sleep in a separate bedroom at such a young age. (If there’s one thing about Filipino culture that I love, it’s the fact that kids are often allowed to sleep in their parents’ bedroom until puberty). I feel that she’s too young to be separated from me.

The eldest is already 9 years old. She’s old enough to crave her privacy. She’s old enough to have her own bedroom. I just wish that I waited until the little one is 9 too before letting her go.

It’s been almost a week since the big change. The first two nights was particularly the hardest. I was so tempted to move in to their bedroom just so I could spend the night beside them again. I terribly missed them. I still do.

Amazingly, they seem to be taking this move well. While I spent sleepless nights missing them and countless minutes peeking through their bedroom door, they spent all that time deep in dreamland. And they didn’t seem to be the worse for wear come morning. In fact, they were all too happy to come barging into our bedroom and rouse us and demand loudly that we get breakfast going already. Food. That’s always the priority, isn’t it.

My kids are growing up. I’m too afraid to blink coz I don’t want to miss a single moment of it.