Going to Bed

Lying down. Closing my eyes. Sleeping.  In my now 5.5 years of marriage, 4 years have been sleep deprived, and yet I still function at a above average level, most of the time.  The people who receive my less than patient attitude is my family, which is sad.  I remember as a kid my mom yelling at me, and I seemed to inspire a special fury sometimes, but if that phone rang I remember my mom answering in the sweetest tone, a tone that made me long to be playing outside.

It seems that no matter the era, or place, in the end the ones we love seem to get our patience when it runs dry.  Lately it's my boys, and to be honest it has little to do with what they do. They are real young so to find fault with much of what they do seems unfair at best.  My oldest has a vivid imagination, and my younger boy has received that same gift, for whatever reason, likely age, my older boy must see a world that energizes him at night.  Either it is thoughts of what is happening, or what will happen when he sleeps, it is a struggle one night, and the next he is asleep before I have finished five pages from the book we are reading.  Some nights my slightly chillier visage is acceptable, heck even invited, and others only the warmth a mother brings will satisfy his racing mind.

I don't think kids realize that their behavior can actually pierce us as much as it does, I am truly saddened when my son yells that he doesn't want me to read, but wants mommy instead.  The sad part is I should play it more like the cat theory with him, ignore him and he will want me more, but it is hard when you feel slighted. While I know it isn't meant as a dagger, that knowledge doesn't lessen the pangs.

Being a parent seems like an exercise in memory, do you remember how you felt at that age when...Unfortunately I usually remember only after I do they thing I hated as a kid to my own children.  I seem to forget it makes zero sense to yell when I hope to calm a situation, much like it is pointless to slap a kid's hand and say "no hitting."  But that patience things hits me, and my kid memory doesn't kick in, and all of the sudden I am trying to yell at my son to stay in bed and "GO TO SLEEP..." yeah I'm sure he's relaxed to go to sleep then.

The dread two young children must feel for bed time approaching must be profound in their eyes.  Compared to the utter delight that comes over me as I lie down for the evening couldn't be more apropos. The thought of completing a day successfully brings a content quality to me, and to my young children, the thought of a day ending is missed opportunities, perhaps I'm the one doing it wrong.