It’s not selfish to need some child-free time at night. It’s self-preservation.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Because it makes me feel like less of an a-hole for getting frustrated with my three kids, each of whom, from time to time, struggle with bedtime.
One who fights falling asleep because it makes her tummy feel weird and like she wants to cry.
One who has trouble falling and staying asleep because her brain is consistently on overdrive and then she gets in her head about being in her head.
And one who, like clockwork, wakes up around 3 a.m. for anything from a bloody nose to a bad dream to just wanting Mommy to sleep with him.
So when it’s past 9:30 p.m. and not one of my children is asleep and I’m fully aware that I still have to help two more children get and stay down, which will likely involve 20-minute-interval interruptions of what I desire to be my Netflix binging time, I get witchy…with a capital B.
Tonight I’m doing better with it.
I’m more patient for whatever reason.