A Long Night

Tonight was challenging. My daughter seemed to make it her goal to break me. She wouldn't come home with me when it was time to leave daycare. She battered me with kicks as I tried to put her shoes on. She had a time out in the daycare lady's kitchen before we could even get out the door. When we got in the door at home, she wouldn't remove her shoes or come upstairs. I walked away. She eventually came up. She wouldn't sit up to eat, so she spent 3 minutes in her bed awaiting the oven timer as a cue to come out. Normally she watches one cartoon each night if we get done eating in time. The requirement is that we use the bathroom prior to the show. Are you getting the pattern here? Yes, she wouldn't use the bathroom so we didn't watch any cartoons. She didn't seem to care. She'd much rather disobey than watch a cartoon.

Bedtime was the same. A toothbrush with toothpaste was met with thrashing head and pursed lips. A final bathroom trip resulted in a bottom hovering over the seat because sitting down would represent some type of defeat. When it was time to put on pajamas I had a limp noodle. I was done. I picked up my fully clothed child and put her in her bed. I slammed the door behind me. She was perfectly content in there. She was ready to sleep in her clothes. I wasn't ok.

I sat down and cried. I cried because I didn't have any enjoyable time with my daughter tonight. I cried because sometimes I feel like a toddler has me beat. I cried because I'm tired. I cried because I worry about my ability to successfully parent. I cried because I want my daughter to be the best that she can be, but I'm not sure how to make that happen sometimes.

About ten minutes after I left the room, I went back. I asked her to put on her pajamas. She reluctantly agreed. I asked her to use the bathroom - for real. She did. I wondered if she thinks that I regard her as "naughty." I don't like that word. I think it can be a self-fulfilling prophecy. I sat her down on my lap and asked her if she thinks she is a good girl or a bad girl. "Good girl," she answered. Ok, good. I told her that I think she's a very good girl too but sometimes it's hard to spend time with my good girl when she makes the choice to disobey. I told her that my night isn't as much fun without my best girl acting as Mommy's Helper. We had a little talk. I told her that I love her. I felt better. I hope somehow that she felt better too.

This was a rough night. I did my best. It's amazing that we are challenged so much as parents and we feel like we are at our wit's end, but a small kiss on the cheek at the end of the night makes it worthwhile. I can only hope that the sum of my days with her end up giving her a feeling of positive self esteem and a sense of responsibility. All I can do is my best.