I cherish my children deeply. I truly do. They are my world, and I can’t fathom life without them. But let me be honest about one thing: I absolutely detest putting them to bed.
A friend of mine once shared how much she looks forward to tucking her kids in each night, and frankly, it makes me question our friendship. Her enthusiasm only amplifies my struggle and makes me feel like a bad parent.
Is it wrong that, come 6 PM, I’m practically glued to the clock, anxiously waiting for bedtime to finally arrive? The anticipation is so intense that my heart races as the hour approaches. From dawn until dusk, I juggle countless roles: wake-up call, personal chef, timekeeper, referee, chauffeur, therapist, teacher, housekeeper, laundry expert, grocery shopper, negotiator, activity planner, and so much more. I don’t need accolades for all these duties; I just need a brief moment of peace. Not the kind where I hide in the bathroom pretending it’s my time alone while my kids knock and ask endless questions about my “bathroom business.”
I know some may judge me for wanting to skip bedtime stories, but honestly, I’d rather pour myself a glass of wine and sit in the quiet, pondering the chaos of the day that just unfolded.
A Glimpse into Our Nightly Routine
Here’s a glimpse into our nightly routine: I end up reading at least three lengthy books to each child (why do they always pick the longest ones?), managing the “potty and teeth-brushing process” (which somehow always turns into an all-out brawl for sink space), and guiding them to their respective rooms—all while enduring a symphony of whines and reminders that bedtime is not up for negotiation. Why must we replay this exhausting routine every night? Can’t we all agree that some self-reflection could lead to a smoother process?
Once in their rooms, my job isn’t over. I have to “suck” the imaginary monsters out of their heads, which involves some serious convincing that I hold the power over their nighttime fears. After tucking them in, giving an absurd number of hugs and kisses, and whispering sweet reassurances, I carefully back away from the room—hoping for some peace until morning. But just as I manage to escape, both of my daughters inevitably remember something “really important” that they must share.
And thus begins my nightly game of ping pong, darting between rooms while I internally fight the urge to scream, “GO TO SLEEP!” I’m at my wit’s end. I long for a break, yet I hold out until they finally release me from their clutches and drift off.
Once they finally sleep, I find myself spending the next couple of hours preparing for the next day—packing lunches, ensuring wet snow pants are hung up (which they never are), filling out forms, and trying to enjoy just the right amount of wine to avoid a headache in the morning while still suppressing thoughts about how much I’ll miss these chaotic bedtimes once they’re all grown up.
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In summary, bedtime may be a nightly battle filled with chaos, but it’s a part of this wild parenting journey that I wouldn’t trade for the world—despite its challenges.
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