For years, I used to sneak into the kid’s rooms and take a peek at them while they slept. I watched their still bodies, curled up in weird positions and wondered what they were dreaming about or if they were dreaming at all. My oldest and my youngest sleep with their eyes slightly open to the point that you’re not sure if they are sleep. My other three, though, oooh, sleep just like their dad–HARD, STILL AS CONCRETE.

I don’t watch them anymore.

As soon as I can get a spare brain cell, which usually happens between the third or fourth rant of “Brush your teeth and say your prayers” and the increasing threat of “If I hear one more sound, I am…”, I go to the computer so that I can squeeze in articles for the two blogs, flyers for the podcasts, emails/newsletters/press releases about my upcoming speaking engagements. I don’t know when else I could do these things because in the morning, I’m planning for the day, working on these projects as well. I do what I have to do now so that I can do what I want to do later, but that doesn’t mean jack to the kids.

“Mommy, why don’t you tuck us in, pray with us or give us a zerbert/zurbit (Couldn’t find the proper word, but it’s when you make raspberries/spitting sounds on the cheek or stomach usually. Think Clif Huxtable and Rudy)?”

I was stopped in my tracks for a second until I realized that it was my sensitive, family oriented son who asked the question. He always challenges me and makes me feel less compassionate or inadequate when its comes to family affairs. His comment was just one of the many ways that my children and my family makes me feel like a busta, intentionally and unintentionally.

“Mommy doesn’t read books to us every night either any more.” Oh, now my 4 year old, who also thinks that she has no friends and that she’s always left out, was making me feel any better. So, what do I do?

You think I broke down, crawled under a rock and felt guilty because I have to generate income and I’ve chosen doing it on my terms, with my skills? You think I cried and explained how much I missed them and wanted to be with them?

You got another think coming. I did the totally un-respectable thing and went OFF.

“Didn’t we just have a water fight, go to the museum, hang out at the park, get video games at the library and you are trying to make me feel bad tonight? Do you think about what I may want to do, what makes me happy? I wish I could just whine and all of the sudden somebody stops what they’re doing to chauffeur me, comfort me, clothe me, clean up after me…”

My oldest daughter rushed in the room to rescue her siblings, but I was on a roll and there was no turning back. “What part of I owe you every ounce, every second of my life did you pick up on? You…”

I don’t have to recant it, but it was crazy and I overreacted.

I’m sitting here now, typing this post, BBB is awake AGAIN after midnight and I have had to retype this line several times because I’m half awake.

Were they wrong for wanting to keep a routine that I’ve been practicing for years up until 9 months ago when DH and I had “the talk”? They’re getting older. I’m getting busier. I do the night time routine sometimes, maybe once a week. They don’t drop this drama on DH at all, ever. Should I be mad about that?

How do you respond when your children pull the guilt trip? Do you cave? Do you snap? Do you breakdown, cry and reach for the chocolate ice cream? Leave a comment and share with me how guilt (or perceived neglect) from your children or from your spouse effects you.

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