Nightly Postscript: When Bedtime Is Hell

I'm sick of being pissed off at bedtime.

There was a time when I'd tuck the kids into bed and say something like, "I love you more than all the stars in the sky" or "I love you more than all the donuts in the world". We'd kiss, and they'd go to sleep without another peep.

I really do remember this happening. . . .twice.

Recently, bedtime features one very tired and end-of-rope mama and three not tired, acrobatic kids. I scramble through three stories, reading as fast as I can without sounding like that guy from those 80's Fed Ex commercials.

Then, I alternately kiss/scold/threaten/"I love you"/sigh/plead/threaten/tuck in/tuck back in/physically lie child down to be tucked in. Some nights this works, and I sit quietly until three children's breathing slows to the speed of "sleep".

Other nights (tonight), I tell them I'm "done for the night", and stomp out of the room to go sulk. They'll either quiet down and fall asleep on their own, or Fairly Odd Father will use his daddy voice to quiet them down. Or, I'll hear them goofing around, and I'll go back into their room and get angry, frustrated and icky.

Then, when I finally go to bed, I think about how if something terrible were to happen in our home that night, the last memory my kids would have of me is of an angry, frustrated and icky mommy. This thought causes me to get out of bed and stop by their room one last time while they sleep. I straighten their pillows, tuck the blankets around their small bodies and kiss their foreheads. Then, before I leave, I whisper that my love for them is bigger than all the stars in the sky.