Just have to share last night's "sink into the floor in shame" moment.
I woke up in the middle of the night to whimpering, and once I realized it was Greyson, got up to go see what was wrong. When I got in his room, he was just picking himself up off the floor (his mattress is on the floor, so no harm done physically) and climbing back into bed. I went over, tucked him in, and quietly left the room.
Just as I closed the door, he whimpered again. I waited. Sure enough, more whimpering, building up to full-scale crying. So I go in and ask what he needs. He mutters something about his blanket, and I see one next to the bed, so I put it on. I start to move toward the door, he whimpers that his feet need covered. I cover them, start to move, another blanket. This goes on about 10 times, with me growing increasingly frustrated. (Did I mention I'm in my third trimester and had to pee?!)
Finally, all possible blankets are on him, he's completely tucked in. He mutters something that I can't hear. I say, "What do you want?" Muttering. I say it louder, completely not concerned about waking Charles asleep across the room at this point - I just want to go to the bathroom and back to bed! After the fifth time of me standing over him and yelling, "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" I finally understand him to have been saying, "I want a hug."
Bad, bad mommy. I cried, gave him his hug and a few extra, and guilt-ridden and chastened, finally went to the bathroom and back to bed. Poor kid!
No comments:
Post a Comment