Don't you hate how during bedtime, you just want the kids to lie down and go. to. bed. And their whining for more water, for one more story, for more snuggles, more nursies, just feels like TOO MUCH.
But then, when you realized they've all fallen asleep, you're suddenly all like, "OH NOES. Did I love them ENOUGH? Did that one fall asleep while I was nursing this one? Did she close her eyes knowing she's loved? Was it really that hard to just give him ANOTHER sip of water? What is the meaning of life, other than one more sweet story w/ your children? What have I done?"
And you like...try to move them around on the bed from their odd positions where they dropped asleep, and try to give them an extra kiss and snuggle. But mostly they wiggle and drool and roll away from you, completely unaware of your existential parenting crisis...
Don't forget...where you steadfastly nurse your child to sleep every night of his existence from birth onwards, wondering if it will ever end. Then one night, he falls asleep on his own, like accidentally, and you go, OMG!!!! I didn't HOLD HIM! And nurse him! And whisper I love you ten thousand times!
All the while, your heart is full, and it is empty, and it is bursting with joy and pain. Like every contraction during labor, like every nerve wracking newborn breastfeeding session, like every moment of your parenting: you would go to the end of the world for your child and yet at any moment you could fall into an exhausted heap.
When you gaze down at your peaceful, serene children, you realize nothing else in the world matters. And yet, almost without noticing, your shoulders relax for the first time today, and your mind begins to wander to other purposes.
Wake that kid up STAT!!!! LOVE HIM! SHOW HIM! BE THERE FOR HIM!
But then you quickly come to your senses. And pee alone. And eat icecream while watching horrible reality TV.
This is the bedtime existential crisis.
How you imagine bedtime with a growing family:
How bedtime really is: