Originally Posted by LynnS6
I would argue that in cases of "special needs", i.e. sleep-walking or hard of hearing parents, then it's a different story. Locking the door is a last resort, not your first choice to get some time to yourself.
What makes you think that all kids hate cribs? My ds loved his crib. He stayed in it, by HIS choice, until age FIVE. And even then, we only got him out of it by taking it down when we painted his room and not putting it back up. I think he'd STILL be sleeping in it today if we let him!
For our ds, his crib was a safe, secure place that protected him from sensory overload. For dd it wasn't. Ds used a crib, dd didn't much.
I did not hate my crib. I was one of the lucky kids that was kept in my parents' room. The crib was near their bed. I only remember being left to CIO once, and that still haunts me to this day, but all else was good memories. I guess there are benefits to being special needs, as I was not put through what my siblings were in the department of CIO and the like. Perhaps, that is why they were so happy to get beds and get out o their crib. My reason for liking the crib could have been that I always had my parents in the same room at night and that I did not associate it with being isolated and cut off and being left to cry in fear. It could have been anything.
As a matter of fact, I felt secure in a baby crib. I'm not sure why. I knew I could climb out if needed. I can remember when my mother desperately needed me to sleep in my own room most of the time, though she did not mind the occasional crawl in the bed, she got me a crib and playpen at my request, as that is what I said I wanted. She was on her last child and needed to tend to her. She was an infant, and I was nine and a half when she was born. My mom felt it fitting for me to move on to my own room but said I could sleep with her when I felt I needed her. But at ten years of age, I gave that up altogether, as I felt okay sleeping without her; however, when I did craw into bed, it was like once or twice a week on average. For some reason, my strange requests is what I wanted to make me feel comfortable. Now that we know that autism/aspergers makes one very eccentric. But looking back on things, I'm so glad my mother followed all of my eccentricities, as strange as they were, not trying to force me into a mold that I was not. Her friend, also the mother of my friend, also kept a crib at her house for when I came over. Often times, my friend joined me there to sleep with me.
Thankfully, my parents and those around me that loved me never chastized me for my strange wants and desires. They were always supportive. My mom, though she did some things that upset me and I now understand why she did them, always wanted to make me happy. She strove to do that, even if it was a strange request. I will always remember her for that, and I'll do the same for my kids. I'm so thankful that I was allowed to be me and live them out. I'm so sad that other children do not have that luxury, as parents force them to conform to a social mold, even if it is uncomfortable to them. I've seen it even happen to autistic kids, and it is so unfair, as for the rest of their lives, people with autism/aspergers are going to need odd things to feel comforted.
Right now, I'm particulary attached to one doll. If I lose her, I'd freak out. She has to go with me to doctors appointments and to the dentist, as well as to the hospital. She has been bled on, chewed on by teething babies and toddlers--I let them have her when they were sad because I was right there with them, and since she provides me comfort, I know she will do the same for those babies and toddlers--snotted on from me crying while holding her and from toddlers who had runny noses, dropped, tossed about, adn so much more. Yet, I love her. I'm twenty-four almost, but it doesn't matter because I need to do what will help me cope. Trying to be something I'm not will only agrivate things. Yes, my parents supported CIO, and you guys know my feelings on that, but in all other things, I'm not sure what I'd do without them. I'm blessed I am their child. My mom, aside from some flaws but who doesn't have them, has allowed me to engage in any strange things that I feel are special interests at the time no matter my age without criticism. Thanks, mom! I love you. Now I know why I have an easier time coping than some people. It was my upbringing. My mother had to have been very tough, as I'm sure she was criticised deeply by others for allowing me to do what I did. Way to go, mom for standing up for me!