I am not confused about what you want. I hear you crying “I want Mommy” over and over and OVER. I have heard it for the past 45 minutes. My lack of response is not the result of your lack of asking. I’m not deaf nor am I sitting here thinking “When she gets to the 1,000th time. THEN I’ll know she’s serious.” I am aware that you don’t want to sleep in your bed. I understand that you want me to sit in your room or let you come in mine.
Yes, I closed my bedroom door. There is someone screaming across the hall, and if I am forced to fold this load of laundry, I’d prefer to do it in relative peace. I also hear you walking around in the hall outside my door. I appreciate that you’re just smart (or scared) enough not to open my door. In fact, it is a source of pride. Sorry to burst your bubble. That one back-fired on you.
I am aware that you are prepared to scream until your voice gives out (which by the sound of it, we are nearing shortly). You should know I am prepared to wait that long as well. At least at that point I can turn my movie back on. (Right now, unfortunately, I can’t hear it over the screaming.)
You can’t understand now – and clearly don’t agree – but this is best for you. I love you more than words can express which is why I will suffer with you if it means you are stronger, smarter, more confident and independent. I am building the character of the woman you will become. That’s no small task, so in this battle of wills, mine will always win. I’m a mom. It’s my job.
Goodnight, Little Bear.