Scary Mommy: I Hate Putting My Kids to Bed
I love my children. There I said it. I love them more than life itself and can’t imagine my life without them.
Here’s something I do not love: Putting my kids to bed. I hate putting my kids to bed.
I have a friend who once told me that she absolutely loves putting her children to bed and thoroughly looks forward to tucking them in each and every night. I don’t know why I am still friends with her. She makes me feel bad about myself.
Am I a bad mom because from 6:00 in the evening on I watch the clock like a hawk impatiently waiting for bedtime to roll around, to the point that I physically feel like my heart is going to jump out of my chest from the anticipation?
From the moment I get up in the morning to the time my children go to bed, I work my ass off as a wake-up service, personal chef, time keeper, butt wiper, referee, chauffeur, therapist, teacher, cleaning lady, laundry doer, grocery shopper, negotiator, activity director, circus ring leader, drill sergeant, life size kleenex, fashion consultant, nurse, playmate, professional wall climber (figuratively, not literally), jack of all trades, and master of NONE. Do I want a biscuit for performing these duties day after day after day with little to no gratitude? No. I want a 15 minute break. A real one. Not one that involves me locking myself in the bathroom while I pretend to take the shit that I am not taking as they stand on the opposite side of the door knocking and asking me repeatedly what I am doing, the reason it’s taking me so long (it’s been one minute), and why they can’t come in to watch.
I am quite certain that many people will think that I am a heartless mother because I would prefer not to read my kids one more book at bedtime, but would rather pour myself a glass of wine and sit in the dark by myself wondering what the hell just happened…again.