One of our greatest battles is getting the kids to bed. They just despise that part of the day. We all enjoy wonderful family time together for dinner, a walk, bath, stories, etc. When we start the routine, Sylvia often says: "we're not going to sleep today." By the end, they're usually in tears and wailing. Right now, Rafa fights it more. Sylvia just asks to go to the toilet, for her blankets to be fixed, for her lovey, etc.
Just the other night, Rafa was putting up a fight for the ages. Which of course meant that he was super tired. Into the crib he went. Thank goodness we haven't switched to toddler beds we thought. About 3 minutes later we hear a crash followed by a desperate, blood curdling "Raaaaaaaafaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!"
Yup, he attempted to climb out and was probably too tired to do it without falling. I picked him up an cradled him a little while. Maybe he just needed a little more snuggling. Maybe the episode tired him out. Whatever the case, the next attempt at bedtime was successful.
The interesting thing is that my child crashing to the floor is not what has stuck with me the past few days. What I can't get out of my head is Sylvia's terror stricken scream. In her voice I could hear her deep love for her brother, her fear that something terrible had gone wrong, and her desperation at not being able to do anything (being stuck in her own crib). I am so grateful for the love that my children have for each other. And I pray that they will only cry out for each other like that for something as benign as falling out of bed.
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