At 5:33 I looked at the clock and sighed. Bedtime was at least an hour away but the boys were already acting up and even an episode of Paw Patrol couldn’t keep them occupied.
I sat down to eat supper while G occupied them on the couch. Tonight was anything but family dinner night. Everyone ate in shifts.
At 6:30, we tried to put P to bed but after being told he couldn’t have a long book for story time, he started wailing and would not be pacified. Granted, he ran a mile at school today, so he was extra tired. And when he is extra tired, all hell breaks loose.
We put the baby to bed and P was still wailing. He finally calmed down when G told him a story. We thought we were in the clear until an hour later he came out of his room itching. We convinced him to try sleeping in our bed. When G moved him an hour later, he woke up, itchy again, so I gave him Benadryl, rubbed lotion on him and switched blankets. He then started crying so hard he almost threw up. The reason? I have no idea.
I am trying to have more perspective this week. I arrived back to work from a 5-day vacation to the news that a former colleague committed suicide last month. Yesterday a coworker decided to bring her mother home from assisted living so her mother can die at home as she is failing rapidly and hospice care at home is the best choice for their family.
These are heady things, and I fought tears as I drove home from work today. And then my 6-year old wouldn’t go to sleep and I just about lost it. Because he wouldn’t go to sleep.
I’m trying to be patient. I’m trying to be more loving. I’m just not very good at it.