I have three shows this week. Normally, I book a sitter for Monday night so I can go to my Monday Night Acting Group. It’s so good for me- actor turned mother who fears losing her identity since the arrival of her two beautiful dependents- to get out and do scenes with the other professional actors, weekly. But since I have three shows this week, I figured I’d skip Monday night tonight, and spare the sitter. The boys will have her for 3 nights. Let’s not make it four. And so it was me putting the boys to bed. As, in a perfect world, I want to always do. But it wasn’t so simple.
Tonight, Nathan did not want to wear any of the pajamas in his drawer. His favourite pajamas are probably still in the dryer and I simply told him to choose a pair from his drawer. He’s 4. He can do that. Jake, on the other hand, missed the window of opportunity to go down naturally, and was now overtired and when I put him to bed, he screamed for me… which was particularly hard to take, since Nathan was still not willing to put pajamas on and I wasn’t going back in to comfort Jake until Nathan was dealt with. (I know the books say to let them cry themselves to sleep, which I find hard to do. But then they learn to fall asleep on their own. But in other countries, babies sleep with their parents until they’re 3 or something like that, so I usually end up waiting until Jake is completely asleep before leaving his room).
Long story short, I yelled at Nathan. After I begged, pleaded, joked, played and counted to three about three times. Like, I really yelled at him to pick some pajamas and put them on. He still refused so I told him, fine, see you in the morning. I told Jake to go to sleep. I went downstairs. Nathan followed. I sent him back upstairs. He refused. I threatened to put him outside (terrible, I know). I went back upstairs and to my room. Nathan waited in the hall. I read a book. Nathan cried. I calmed myself down and went to him. He agreed to put on the Charlie Brown pajamas. Still angry, I scolded him for being so unreasonable (he’s 4… what am I thinking?) and I told him he would get no stories since it was by now 9 o’clock and too late for stories. I went to get Jake. I went back to Nathan’s room and told Nathan that I would read Jake and Nathan one story only. But from now on, Nathan was to listen to Mommy. Put on his pajamas when I told him to. (Was that it? The thing that made me so angry? I’m still upset). Nathan agreed and the three of us read a story. I told Nathan I loved him. He seemed good. Then he said: “Mommy, sometimes I’m mad at myself.” I guess he was regretting some of his actions. I told him I knew what he meant. And that I sometimes get mad at myself too. Sheesh. Like when I’m impatient and yelly. It’s been a long time since I’ve been so yelly. It’s because I have been going to Monday night acting group and it’s a good balance for me. But I didn’t go. And I didn’t go to yoga recently either. But I did kiss Nathan extra tonight, and I did tell him I was sorry.
So, was it a good thing I stayed home and put the kids to bed myself? Yes and no. No because I really lost it on Nathan, but yes because I am showing him I am serious and must be listened to. When I went to my room to calm down, I picked up a self-help book (I always have one on my bedside it seems, since beginning this whole parenting thing) and read that if you tell your children that you love them, that’s a good thing. So, I feel better. Now back to reading the other self-help book, on women reclaiming their identities after marriage and children. You see why a girl like me needs to get out…
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