To parent, to sleep, to dream

I can do more make my daughter take a nap that I can yell at the rain and stop it from pouring.

I could do it some parents do, which is throw their kid in a sparsely furnished dark room, turn off the lights, and close the door. I can’t do that for several reasons, one because she doesn’t have her own room to sleep in. We all share the master bedroom. But more importantly, I could t do that to *her,* as tired as I am and as much as I want to take a nap. I couldn’t listen to her crying and just wait until she gets too tired and succumbs to the nap she needs. Maybe that makes me a bad parent for not enforcing boundaries and keeping a schedule, and I’m not shaming those that do. I just can’t do it.

Yesterday night wrecked me. Little Brother woke up a few times before he woke up at a little before 3 AM, screaming and inconsolable. Bottle? No. Cradling? Yes, but then no. Diaper? No. Rocking? Yes… finally, then back to bed and back to crying and thrashing. This went on for a solid hour before I was up for the morning and he finally decided on a bottle (warm) and conked out.

Now they’re long past nap time, and BG is peeling with giggles as she plays with peekaboo with her little brother with the window shade. I know this moment is precious and fleeting, and I know I will miss these days, but in the present I find myself too exhausted to lean into joy.