Sometimes it breaks my heart to know just how much the kid is like me.
Today she was driving me crazy. She was all over the place. She would be in a good mood and then flip out on me. She would demand to be in my lap and then squirm. She wouldn’t let me be in the bathroom by myself. She was talking back and testing me. She was being a toddler.
I knew bedtime was going to be a fight. It often is. She wants one more story, she needs this or that.
Tonight she wanted to change out of her pajamas into just a onesie, then she told Grandma she wanted her pajamas back on. Then I went back in and suddenly she needs to go to the bathroom and we can’t say no to that (and she actually did go, so she wasn’t lying this time).
Then I said goodnight and left and she started crying for me.
I was irritated at this point. It was a day of little things and then I couldn’t find my book and the kid would not just go to sleep. I went back into her room ready for a fight.
And she looked up at me and she said “I don’t know how to sleep.”
And I almost burst into tears.
She broke my heart uttering those words in her little voice. How many times in my 31 years have I thought the exact same thing? How hard is it for me to convince myself to shut off and lie down and just try to sleep?
And how on earth am I supposed to help her when I can’t give her any answers?