It’s 2am. I’m finally about to go to sleep. Before I can get into the bedroom, though, I hear my daughter whimpering in her bed. Usually, this means she has to go to the bathroom, but not always. So I go in and nicely ask what’s wrong, at which point she thrashes a bit before settling her face into the bedsheets and making what to untrained ears would be a moan. I know what she’s saying is she wants mommy. So as I sit down beside her, I tell her, “Mommy’s asleep, what’s wrong? Do you have to go to the bathroom?”
Many kicks in the leg later, I can hear the rumbling in her chest that is about to erupt into a full-on meltdown. I decide to just pick her up and take her to the bathroom – a tactic that has worked in the past. As soon as I touch her, it’s as if I broke her pinky finger off and stabbed her with it. I’m not exaggerating. The screams are bloodcurdling. But I go ahead anyway and take her into the bathroom, almost loosing her once when her thrashing throws me off balance (I think my foot bumping into the stool next to the sink may finally be enough noise to wake my wife). When I put her down next to the toilet, she runs into the corner, still screaming and won’t let me touch her. My wife, obviously thinking there’s at least one body part broken, comes flying into the hallway, and finally the little banshee runs past me and grabs my wife’s legs, taking the screaming down a notch.
I leave the room at that point, allowing them to continue being with each other. The silence comes within 30 seconds. Then suddenly they’re both back in bed.
Me? I’m all hopped up on adrenaline and really mad because of my complete and utter helplessness in this situation. But I have nowhere to direct all this anger so I’ve just gotta swallow it. And my wife’s mad at me because I’m mad.
This is not conducive to sleep, either.
So here I sit, typing up the story for you to read.
Does everybody go through this stuff?