I never knew how pretty my bathroom ceiling was (or thoughts while crying on the floor)

This is what I thought of as I laid on the floor of my bathroom crying my eyes out and glancing up at the ceiling. I had to laugh. How did I get here? Literally, I lay down to cry after another night of not being able to get my son to go to sleep in his own bed. Figuratively, well that's what I wanted to know. How did I become the mom who cannot get her child to self soothe? Why can't I just put him into his bed, and he go to sleep? Why am I a terrible mother? That is where this ends up.
That is where so many issues with motherhood end up with me. Do I truly believe I am a terrible mother? Sometimes. Like when I yelled at him this evening to just go to sleep. I let my frustration get the better of me. But then I think of all the good things I am doing for him. Healthy foods, teaching him to count his fingers, and more hugs and kisses than Hersey's can produce!
I know that this too shall pass. But in a world of Pinterest, Facebook, and blogs we all see and read these portrayals of perfection and when we hold the mirror up to ourselves we see those "epic fails'. Now I do not write this for a pity party. Any mom who is being honest will tell you they have had these days. I should say any parent or caregiver who cares has these days.
When I worked with people with dementia I knew they were not acting out because they chose to. They acted out because the disease took their ability to choose to act the way they would have wanted to. I have so much patience for them. I have to remind myself a child is no different. They do not really choose to act out. They act in the only ways they know how. If they do not have the tools to express what they want, what are they supposed to do?
So I guess I am saying to be kind. Be kind to the older woman who is asking you for the 10th time where her baby is. Be kind to the child who cries when you do not do what they want. But also be kind to yourself. Care giving is hard whether it be for a 1 year old or a 101 year old.
So what do I do next? I take a deep breath, a bite a chocolate, and remember he won't always feel or act his way; and get back in there! Parenting ain't no place for wimps!

Oh and a late Merry Christmas to all of you and your's!