Bedtime with Monsters
There are nights where you think you might not be able to
take much more. There are days that seem to go on endlessly. You feel like if
you have to answer one more question, break up one more fight, discipline one more
time, you might actually lose it. You take deep breaths because at this point,
that's all you have. And as much of a help your partner offers to be, they don't
want him. They want you. Incessantly. You walk into the room for what you swear
is the "last time" only to be repeating the same process 3 minutes
later. It's a battle that you're not always on the losing end of. It's a battle
that often ends in victory, with smiles and hugs and obedience. But today,
tonight, it's the other kind of battle. It's the one that leaves you fighting
back tears because you know, even if they see you crying, it won't make a
difference. Unlike older humans, they won't suddenly feel guilted into making
better choices, or staying quiet and out of your way. Your tears serve no
purpose in this home tonight, other than to bring you a little relief, if you
can find it. No. Tonight is a night that contains yelling and threats. It's a
night that brings on an ugly side to your usually calm, laid back demeanor. You
fight back the urge to curse at them because you know it won't do any good. And
it's a shame you're better judgment keeps your tongue in check because a
strongly placed "f" bomb would really feel good right about now.
It's one that followed a long day of whining and fighting and
complaining and never finding satisfaction. A day where you count down the
minutes until bed time but deep down you know that bed time is when it all gets
worse. Bedtime is when the monsters show up. They climb out from the dark
closets and from under the toy cluttered beds. They stealthily creep up to your
little ones and, little by little, seep into their bodies through their
ears and finger tips and toes. You reason that those night time invaders have
possessed your children because there's no other excuse for the imposters that
now occupy those soft, comfortable sheets. You cross your fingers and pray that
their long day will catch up to them quickly. That they'll realize "hey, I'm
exhausted. It's time to shut up and rest." But your wishful thinking gets
lost in the noise. What should be your time to relax and enjoy a few moments of
quiet before drifting off into what you hope is a uneventful night is ruined by
crying and excuses and your own screaming.
The monsters have taken over, like every night, but tonight
it's really bad. Tonight leaves you ashamed and hurting, both physically and emotionally.
You get to a point where you can change out of your clothes and sit in bed but you find it hard to move. You've spent so much energy trying to rationalize with them that there's not much left for yourself. This night leaves you hoping your partner will console you but both of you find that there's really no solace. Kids are kids, and sometimes they're bad. That's life. Which only makes sense. That's the job, right? That's what you signed up for, knowingly or not.
You get to a point where you can change out of your clothes and sit in bed but you find it hard to move. You've spent so much energy trying to rationalize with them that there's not much left for yourself. This night leaves you hoping your partner will console you but both of you find that there's really no solace. Kids are kids, and sometimes they're bad. That's life. Which only makes sense. That's the job, right? That's what you signed up for, knowingly or not.
But sometimes it sucks. Sometimes it's too much. Sometimes bedtime
leaves you wondering what would happen if you just hopped on a plane alone and
got away for awhile. You could slip out after they're all asleep with nothing
but your keys and purse. Fly away to some secluded island, lay on a beach where there's no one
yelling for you or crying for some totally unnecessary reason. Just you and
silence.
I tell myself I'll do that someday. But not tonight. No,
there's not enough caffeine in the world to get me up off of this mattress to
begin my escape. Maybe tomorrow night I'll follow through on my secret plan.
But please, don't tell the monsters. They are most definitely not invited.