I was solo for bedtime last night, and it was Friday. I have a tendency to be a little more lax on Fridays, so I didn’t push sleepy time too hard. Leila was out by nine, and CJ held on until nine thirty. John got home, and we were in bed around ten thirty.
At eleven, CJ started fussing. I waited. Fussing turn to crying. I got up and got him back to sleep. I started to nod off. Leila starts fussing. I waited. A little more fussing. In my half stupor I start thinking I can comfort her from where I am. I start imagining waves of motherly comfort exuding from my body, riding currents of air, permeating the walls and crashing over my children like the surf on the sand.
Leila stopped fussing. I hold my breath. I have to breath again and still quiet.
I am a Jedi! I can control the moods of children who I can’t even see. I shall be honored and teach other parents how to Jedi parent. Yoda would bow to me. It will be a parenting revolution.
Then Leila started screaming. Loudly.
On a sigh, I get up and go to physically parent.
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