I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to say today, other than something along the lines of, “Jesus Befuckity, that was the shittiest put-down for bed that I can recall in ages.” And the reason for that is Easter, but in being fair to Easter, it’s not really Easter’s fault. It’s the fault of me wanting to be accommodating and sacrificing the boys’ 2-hour nap so we could go to Easter dinner at 1pm (which is when their nap normally starts). They fell asleep in the car, of course, on the way there and on the way home at 6pm. And then they screamed, and screamed, and screamed when it was time for bed at 8pm.
Felt just like it was April 2009 all over again, except not really because back then the screaming was on and off around the clock. Now it’s just on occasion but it still sucks, sometimes worse because you know that they are getting to the point where maybe they will remember that you just had to walk out of the room while they were screaming and close the door behind you. As much as it killed me to do that and listen to them from down the hall with my hands half over your ears, sure enough within five minutes they were sound asleep. But I still feel terrible.
Of course, that final move of leaving them to their shrieking happened after going back into the nursery to console them six different times, six different ways, over the course of an hour and 45 minutes, and every damned time I went in it got worse. Let that be a lesson to me.
I would say that the shrieking and the guilt weren’t worth it, except I kind of think they were, because it was Easter and our family got together and we had some good moments.
And I’m all about the good moments.