"Penelope, if you don't get back in bed right this minute there's going to be a consequence. Do you understand me?"
"I'm not sleepy!"
"One..."
"No!"
"TWO!"
"No, Mommy! No, Mommy! I don't WANT to go to bed!" She threw her head upward and backward and toward me, and her mouth was open. She was chapped-lipped, streaked with saliva; her lips were turned down at the corners. Her eyes were scrunchy, crescent moons, glittering and red.
I tripped over my warning.
I can't do this, I thought. Not tonight. It isn't working.
"Never mind," I sighed. I knelt beside her. "Just come here, baby."
She ran to me, head down, legs stiff, but when I scooped her into my arms she rested her head on my shoulder. She softened. I carried her back to bed.
I laid her down in darkness, kissed her quickly on top of the head.
"Wait," she whispered. Her voice was low and husky. She pressed her cheek into my hand. "Stay with me, Mommy. Please, just for a little while. Sing me a song," she said.
Down the hall I could hear the clink-clank-clink of dishes. Chris was cleaning up from dinner. I tapped my foot. I shook my head.
--- then I looked down at her and she looked up at me and I lost myself for awhile: in her eyes, which were impossibly wide and impossibly inky, and in the fringe of her lashes, which were darker than the darkness, and in the space between them, that velvety spot where her nose curves in, and in the curve of her cheek, which was warm and soft and pressed against my hand, and she's just a baby, said the voice inside my head.
And so, I started singing.
I forgot about consistency and consequence. I forgot about discipline and dinner dishes. I just sat down and watched her eyes grow heavy. I heard her breath grow breathy. I felt her cheeks grow hot and thought, oh! oh, that's my baby in her bed ---
**Finding the Bigger Picture through Simple Moments**
I've just started reading a book about a Hmong child, and the author mentions that Hmong children are amongst the most calmest and happiest of children in the world - their parents are constantly hugging them, carrying them, comforting them. So don't worry too much about not keeping up with the discipline...
ReplyDeleteThanks for the reassurance, Mel!
DeleteYour book sounds really interesting. What's it called?
There, too, go I. Every stinking day ;) I just *can't* pass up a sweet baby. Even a 3 or 4 or 6 year old baby...
ReplyDeleteThree and four and six-year old babies are irresistible, aren't they? Not to mention fuzzy-headed BABY babies...
DeleteOh Sarah, we're doomed!
The thing about your sweet Penelope is that she is just an old, wise soul. Whenever we play I have a hard to believing she has not been on this earth for at least a few lifetimes.
ReplyDeleteYou're so nice, Bryna! I love the way you're always looking for the best in these little people!
DeleteOh, that is one of my very favorite moments -- when breath goes breathy. Sweet dreams, Miss P.
ReplyDeleteIt's a wonderful feeling, isn't it?
DeleteI don't know if your kids ever have tantrums at bedtime (but surely sometimes, right?) but for me it's all mixed-up with the tension dissolving, the frustration melting. There's this charged-up moment of release, a hiccup, a sigh, and suddenly you're left with so much sweetness. I can't describe it well, but it's a good feeling.
I need to learn how to soften up...this is really so amazingly inspirational. You are a good mom.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Ameena! I definitely believe in consequences and discipline, but sometimes I can tell my kids just need me to change course and help them.
Delete(Of course, then I secretly worry about phrases like 'mixed messages' and 'intermittent reinforcement'. *sigh* Why is parenting such a tricky balance?)
**And so, I started singing.**
ReplyDeleteA rose beginning to open her petals one by one...
this describes your writing. Xx
Oh, that's beautiful. Thank you.
Delete:-) My 14-year old "baby" has the power to do this to me every single day, at least once. And I am so grateful. Emily, every post you write makes my eyes film over - with some emotion. I love it. I look forward to your updates every day. And when you don't post sometimes, I just click the bookmark on top in my browser and go catch up on old posts here. You're just amazing.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Vidya. That's one of the nicest things anyone's ever told me. I'm so happy you're reading!
DeleteI'm also happy to know that when they're 14 they'll still feel like babies! :)
So beautiful! And I would do just what you did...
ReplyDeleteGood! I know I'm on the right track then! Because I love the way you see the world; you always find so much beauty.
DeleteI remember those bedtime battles...yours came to a beautiful resolution~
ReplyDeleteHa! Well, I'm glad we're not the only ones who have them, but at our house the resolution is definitely hit and miss!
DeleteJust had the equivalent experience with my 22 yr old! When they are coming undone your mother heart can't help but reach out and try to smooth it all away. It never stops, Emily.
ReplyDeleteYou're right. I know my mom's the first person I call when I'm feeling frazzled and it seems like she always has time to listen
DeleteI hope everything's okay over there! I've been thinking about you, May.
I'm a softie at bedtime, too. There's just something about the light and the stillness and I think getting carried away in that is perfectly OK.
ReplyDeleteI'm usually firm in the face of a tantrum, but there's something extra-awful about it when they fall asleep in the middle of a fit. Sometimes there's nothing you can do, of course, but I like to snuggle those feelings away when I can.
DeleteThree cheers for peaceful bedtimes!
Well, mine are 24 and 22...but I sang them to sleep almost every night of their little lives. Some nights they'd get two songs out of me (picture bunk beds, me standing and singing to one of them, then scooting under to sing to the other). The good news is...once the songs were done, and that connection made, I dare say they never got out of bed. My husband says never say never...but it was rare. Just became part of the routine and I will cherish, cherish, cherish forever that special bed time, calm, sweet bond.
ReplyDeleteWe have a solid bedtime routine, but I think I need to make a change for Penelope. An earlier bedtime and a longer snuggle might help. Maybe she's just not getting enough of that calm connection before it's time to settle down. All I know is, she gets up and up and UP before she finally falls asleep.
DeleteI love the image of you singing to your little ones! It's so tender and sweet!
yes....discipline is so very important.....but so is a mother's love and sometimes, we just need it...at any age. xo
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely!
DeleteI wish I could go back in time and spend MORE time with my kids at bedtime. You're doing it the right way!! Thank you for the memory of laying with both my kids and singing with them before bed.
ReplyDeleteI try to remember that. When I'm just ready to be DONE with the kids at the end of the day, I try to remember that these days won't last forever. It doesn't always work, but at least sometimes it helps me stay patient.
DeleteOh, my. This here is something I've struggled with -- especially in the realm of promoting healthy eating with my youngest. The world will teach them so many times about rigidness, about rules, about towing the hard line ... but we get to teach them grace and love in abundance. You chose well. <3
ReplyDeleteThanks, Hyacynth! I've been following along as you've changed the eating habits in your family and I've been so impressed by the attitude you've taken. You're such a good example!
DeleteAnd I love the way you put that, too: we get to teach them grace and love in abundance. Lovely!
You just touch my heart and soul with how you share these moments. I'm all teary. That was beautiful!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Liz!
DeleteSweet. I have had those moments, too, and they are nice. Memories to keep.
ReplyDeleteBut I think if it was every night, it wouldn't be as precious. So that's me convincing myself not to feel guilty for those nights I DO stick to the consequences. ;)
If it happens every one in awhile, it's blogworthy. If it happens every night though, it's maddening! Nine times out of ten, I probably would've kept counting. :)
DeleteNothing's more soothing than Mommy's voice...
ReplyDeleteCompletely.
DeleteIf that's not the sweetest thing I've read all day... ::sighs::
ReplyDeleteAw, thanks! *smile*
DeleteOh this is lovely. It really is beautiful that you are able to read her so well and know just what she needs. Women always marvel at how well mothers understand them, even into adulthood and even when they'd {secretly} prefer not to be understood. I have to think it starts here. It really starts here.
ReplyDeleteIt's definitely a balancing act. Sometimes you have to be firm and hold on to a course of action, but then there are other times when you can tell that being firm isn't actually what's best in that moment. You have to be able to redirect. The trick is knowing the difference!
DeleteI always remember: One time when I was in high school I got in trouble and my parents grounded me for the rest of the semester (or something awful), but later we talked about it and they changed their minds and ungrounded me. To this day, I marvel at that decision. It was such a risk! But if I would've stayed grounded I really believe I would've found new ways to rebel. The fact that they actually listened to me, understood what I was saying, and *trusted* me taught me an incredibly valuable lesson. I was much more honest with them after that!
Sorry about the random tangent! But that's why I've always tried to "read" my babies. It seems important!
I really enjoyed reading this post! You write so beautifully! Sometimes, we have to cave in a little; I'm glad you did! xoxo
ReplyDeleteThanks, Rosinda!
DeleteThis is beautiful and sometimes it's just fine to forgo the consequences for cuddles, hugs and songs. It let's our little ones know they are loved. :-)
ReplyDeleteOh, I hope so! That was certainly my intention.
DeleteIt's nice you got some snuggles.
ReplyDeleteAlways!
DeleteThis was such a sweet (and relatable) moment. My youngest is just three and he still has those rebellious moments that can only be calmed with a cuddle. Ah, but my patience ... :-)
ReplyDeletePenelope's three, too, and thankfully these moments are more the exception than the rule now, but oh yes! My patience!
DeleteTrust is such a hard thing to develop with kids, especially if they aren't your own. Their values are not the ones you would have chosen to teach them, their habits are not the ones you instilled or even condone, and yet, I'm the one who has to deal with the consequences of such carelessness. This had been my biggest struggle, and most difficult thing to keep perspective on. I'm a big proponent of fairness, discipline, and consequences both good and bad, and so is their dad, but bi-weekly isn't enough to make an impression, and I find myself in a Sisyphean struggle to teach them anything that makes an impression. I envy the tender moments of love and calm that you all have with your kids. As someone who had to deal with kids not her own, I find that I feel that these moments are not moments that I am allowed to have, that these times are for their mom and them. I'm just the wicked "daddy's friend" and it really makes me frustrated. But I love your blogs Em because you make it seem so much less combative, and it helps me take a step back. You are an amazing Mom, and your girls are so blessed to have you!
ReplyDeleteI think I'm lucky because I *do* have a solid foundation of trust with my girls. Plus, there's luxury in knowing that I'm the one guiding the arc of their development. I know their concerns, their strengths and weaknesses, what they've learned well and what they have left to learn, so I really *know* when it's okay to step back, say "right now this isn't working" and change course. I don't have to feel like it's going to undermine the long-term lessons I'm teaching them because I know we'll get back on track when they're more receptive. Not to mention, love and acceptance and adaptability are *part* of the lessons I'm teaching them. Does that make sense?
DeleteI don't know what it would feel like to be in your position, but I do know YOU and I know those kids are lucky to have you in their lives. Just remember that all children are basically good, but childhood isn't ever straightforward. It's meandering and messy and it's really not meant to be combative. Maybe you could find something fun to share with them, something that's not at all related to anything you're trying to teach them, and spend time just bonding. You know, to diffuse the pressure. Maybe if you and the kids had more of a foundation it would be easier? I'm in no position to offer advice, but I'm thinking about you. Good luck!