The Point of No Return

(Look at this face. Can you imagine she can scream like any of the best horror movie queens?)

Every night, just after dinnertime, Megan enters what I call the Point of No Return. She gets so tired and it's like a switch is flipped and she becomes a crying mess. I get her ready for bed--whether or not she'll scream in the bathtub is a coin toss--and then hold her in the rocking chair, where we read, say prayers, and sing songs. At some point, she quiets down and cuddles with me in my arms. (I have to say that's the greatest part of my day--that and when I'm singing to her and she looks at me like she couldn't imagine how lucky she is to have me as a mom. I need to keep a mental picture of that in my head and save it for when she's a moody teenager!)

When it's time to get into bed, I stand up and move toward the crib. And the wailing begins. This has gone on for a couple of weeks now, and the window of screaming appears to be shrinking. When she first started, she could scream for up to 45 minutes. Tonight, she did about five or so.

I'll go in once to make sure she's okay if she's really screaming like crazy, but I try not to. If I do, I'll pick her up and cuddle her. If she quiets down (which she usually does), I call that her "critical error," because it means she's perfectly fine and not in any pain, so back down she goes. And the screaming commences.

I know it's all for the best, and that she needs to learn to fall asleep without me, but I have to say, it's a real test of my will!