Poor baby

Oh dear. My baby is crying hysterically, calling out "mama" between jagged sobs. I should put on music to block it out, but that seems like cheating. If he has to go through the misery of crying like this, I should have to experience the pain of listening to it. We're experimenting with a new bedtime routine--one that does not require me laying in bed with Mazin for 30 minutes to help him fall asleep. We thought that was a habit that should be broken. Problem is, children are such lovers of routine that he is extremely displeased at the moment to have his beloved routine changed.

OK, it's now the next day. You can guess who won last night's battle. I couldn't stand the crying after 10 minutes. I just started thinking: what am I trying to prove? Who am I doing this for? Why are my desires more important than my child's needs? What a complicated balance we try to strike. I clearly don't have it figured out. I would, however, like to be in charge some of the time. I'm the parent, right? Don't I call the shots? Maybe not. Meanwhile, Mazin is still super cute and loving mud season, with all the boots and puddles and mess. I feel like it's mud season in my mommy mind. That must mean summer will be here soon!