It’s the night that looms large, threatening to swallow me whole

Originally posted Wednesday, June 13, 2007


It’s the night that looms large, threatening to swallow me whole
Current mood: exhausted

I think some of the hardest moments of being a single mom, are night times.

The nights where bedtimes are a struggle, and there’s nothing you can do, but wait it out.

Sitting in the dark, listening to your child cry evokes certain emotions no one wants.

I dont’ know which ones come first actually, but they are heartache, frustration, anger, fear, resentment, and sometimes emptiness.

Heartache I’m pretty sure most of you get. No one ever wants to hear someone they love cry. The struggle comes from knowing that you’ve done everything you’re supposed to for the “bedtime routine” knowing that she’s not lacking... she’s gone potty, she’s got her water, she’s been read a book, given hugs and kisses and tucked in.

If she is acting, she’s a grammy award winner hands down. The pathetic sobs and occasional “mama I want you” actually feel like they are somehow directly connected to my heart...

Frustration comes from knowing that you’ve done everything, she’s not lacking and still she’s crying. There’s nothing you can do but wait it out. And the sobs seem to echo off the walls, bouncing in your thoughts wondering if she might possibly be really sad about something, wondering if I’m letting her down, not consoling her if she hurts.

Anger comes into play pretty quickly after that. Knowing that she does know how to manipulate, knowing that if she cries there’s a chance I might come back in her room, and she gets what she wants. I hate manipulation. I hate how loud her cries seem, and worse I hate how they feel. I hate not having anyone to distract me from the situation or just sit here with me, beside me, telling me I’m doing the right thing, it’s all going to be ok.

Fear starts to show itself, when the anger pushes you so far that you’re afraid you will act out of anger. Yell too harshly for the crime, shut the door to her room and leave her in her own fear of being isolated with god knows what monsters she sees in the shadows. Fear that you’re failing as a parent.

Resentment... oh that ugly word. I will never resent having her ever, I resent that I can’t just go for a walk, that I’m chained to the house, I resent not knowing what to do, not being confident in my parenting, not having anyone to do this with me....that......and well.....you can’t give children sleeping pills!!!!!!

Emptiness is what I feel after I’ve had those ugly thoughts. How can you be angry at that tiny little being? She’s not really trying to drive me nuts, she’s just doing her job as a 3 year old. The screams and sobs have tugged at my heart, closed off my throat, and I want to cry. I want to talk to another adult, and I feel alone. I think this is about the only time I ever feel lonely as a single mom. And it feels big enough to swallow me whole.

And just when you think you can’t take it anymore, that you’re just about ready to start crying with her...there it is... finally..... through sobs... a smooth rhythm starting... the rhythm of her breath as she finally sleeps from pure exhaustion.

I peek into her room, so very quietly, afraid my own breath will start the madness over again, to see her angelic little face, lips parted and in a pout, hair plastered to her forehead from sweat and tears, and all I want to do is take back every horrible thought I had, pick her up in my arms and never let her go.

Instead, I tuck her back in, kiss her very gently on her head and whisper, I love you, I will always love you no matter what.