What I'll remember

None of them wanted to fall asleep in their own beds and I just didn't have it in me to break out the measures that would have gotten them there. I was feeling so done though. Especially with Joan. She was crying and freaking out about everything, "Bu I TAN'T ____!" was her wailing response to every single suggestion I had for helping her.

It's amazing how much little things help though. I had turned on the Spotify playlist "Lullaby music that helps the baby sleep but doesn't make me homicidal" when I started bedtime prep and it kept bringing me back over and over to remembering that this moment is the only one I'm guaranteed and my options are to accept it or fight against it.

The other thing that helped was this silly sounding parenting tip that has actually really helped me since reading it:

from: http://www.janetlansbury.com/2012/11/tantrums-and-meltdowns-my-secret-for-staying-calm-when-my-kids-arent/

"I’m the kind of person who absorbs and is affected by everyone’s feelings. But I also know that staying calm and centered in the face of even the darkest of my children’s emotions is imperative to their well-being. My boat is easily rocked, and when that happens I can lose perspective, and rather than giving my kids the solid support for their feelings or the behavior limits they need during a tantrum, I can end up losing patience, melting, second-guessing myself, getting mad or frustrated, yelling, doing things that not only don’t work, but also create problems that make matters worse.

...So when my kids are angry, sad, frustrated, winding up or melting down, I imagine myself donning a superhero suit equipped with a protective shield that deflects even the fiercest, most irritating emotional outbursts. It makes me feel confident and capable and inspires me to rise above the fray.  Just reaching for my superhero suit helps me to take a step out of myself and gain a clearer perspective.  I realize:

This is a VIPM (very important parenting moment). Releasing these feelings is so good for my child. This explosion will clear the air and lift my child’s spirits.  Staying present and calm, sticking with whatever limits I’ve set and being a safe channel for these emotions is the very best thing I could ever do."

So while Sophia rolled around on the edge of the bed in her own little world and Verity played sitting on my knees and Joan clutched at me and cried that I wasn't tickling her right, wasn't getting her the drink she needed, wasn't fill-in-the-blank and whatever you can come up with she probably cried hot, bitter tears about it into my shoulder. But when I felt that desire start to overwhelm me to pick her up, march her to her own bed and tell her she was welcome to cry herself to sleep alone, I mentally put my superhero cape on instead and repeated, "Releasing these feelings is so good for her." over and over. I just let her clutch at me in writhing, loud, "nothing will ever be better" tears until she slowly quieted and fell asleep on my chest. I kissed her chubby little cheek, scooted her to the side, nursed Verity to sleep, and then took this picture before tip toeing away feeling grateful to have made it through a hard night with a few moments of this:

...Occasionally (though it’s pretty rare) my superhero perspective even allows me to recognize the romance in these moments. I’m able to time travel at hyper-speed into the future, look back and realize that this was prime time together.  It didn’t look pretty, but we were close. I’ll remember how hard it was to love my child when she was at her very worst and feel super proud that I did it anyway."