Sleeping Angels

Evenings are a difficult time of day.  The kids are tired and hungry.  Chris and I are tired and hungry.  As we try to prepare dinner, Soren is usually screaming for his milk and Oliver is taking advantage of his parents being distracted with dinner to take a swipe at Soren.  (Too bad for him that Mom really does have eyes in the back of her head.)  It's loud and it's chaotic.  It's frustrating. We thought we'd left the witching hour behind when our kids were no longer newborns. 

I count it as a success that we sit down for family dinners, but peaceful family dinners, no we're not there yet.  The kids are in and out of their chairs.  We remind Soren not to shriek and Oliver to use his indoor voice.  A minimum of one child will spill his cup of water, sometimes multiple times.  The other will complain (loudly) he doesn't like what's for dinner.  Even when we serve pizza. 

By the time the kids go to bed, I often feel like a failure of a parent.  I should have yelled less.  I should have ignored my kids when they yelled.  I should have employed the discipline techniques we discuss in ECFE instead of the empty threats of time-outs.  

If there's anything that gives me hope that tomorrow is a new day and that tomorrow my kids will listen and I'll be more patient, it's the sight of my little boys sounds asleep.  No matter how crazy the evening had been or how loudly they had played, they look so angelic.  I already mourn they day when they no longer sleep with stuffed animals, because there's nothing more innocent than a little boy sleeping with his arm draped over his teddy bear. 

I can't go to sleep without checking on them now.  It's become part of my routine, along with checking that the lights have been turned off and the doors are locked.  It's part of knowing that everyone is safe and all is right.  Every single night, I kiss and snuggle each one.  I return stuffed animals to the bed and pull up covers to warm sleeping bodies.  I whisper I love you and feel so grateful these little boys are mine.