T'was a Bad Night

First time she's fallen asleep without a diaper change, pajamas, story time, or toothbrushing. That kind of night, indeed. Something inside her ignited causing freakin' tantrum explosions all over the place. I find it easy to keep my cool during a tantrum, but discovered what's hardest about them; she doesn't let me comfort her. She doesn't want me to pick her up, doesn't want to listen to soothing music, doesn't want to watch Sesame Street, DOES NOT want me to touch her. She lets me know this by flailing her limbs and screaming till she runs out of breath.

Thus, I sit by her and watch as this thing takes her over. I have a beer at my side, I take a sip. Here I am feeling guilty that I'm nursing an alcoholic beverage when my child is screaming, but i've exhausted all options to try and help her. So, I watch her scream some more, seeing her face turn beet red with that sad mix of snot and tears that I SO want to wipe away, but knowing it will set her off even more if I dare. I finally tried picking her up again and she let me. We walked around the living room for 10 minutes in silence. She rested her head on my shoulder while she got those leftover heaves out of her system. I dismissed the idea of turning up the a/c as I got hotter carrying her. I dismissed walking outside or into the kitchen. She needed for me to walk a small, slow path with her in my arms, over and over and over. So, we did. She passed out and I put her to bed.

I'm exhausted and pained, but feel a strange confidence. I know that because we endured THAT mess, we can get through anything. Now I want a shoulder to lay my head, though. I do have a perfect one for these moments - it will just be home late tonight. I'll tell him what happened and he'll tell me I am strong and a good mother and yes, there are hard moments, but we'll look over it all quite fondly in 20 years. He is right.