It's awfully hot in here

As I write this, I'm sitting on the floor of my walk-in closet. Why? Because it's 10:30 PM, and we have attempted for the third time to put Weezie to bed. She's screaming like a banshee, and I can't bear it. It's my inability to listen to her shrieking that's gotten us in this mess, because I inevitably go in, take her out, and let her play. I'm trying to break the cycle, hence the self-imposed exile.

She used to go to bed at 8 PM on the dot with usually no protest, but for the last several months she's been pushing and pushing to stay up later. She's learned that shrieking will result in extra playtime. While I can ignore it when she throws tantrums during the day, for some reason the bedtime screaming really kills me. I hate to admit it, but it bothers me not so much in a "my poor baby" kind of way, but more of a "please, someone poke me in the head with a sharp stick because it would be less grating" sort of way.

It's times like this where I feel like an utter failure as a mother. It was easier when she was younger. Granted, I still doubted myself often, but I could hang on to the fact that I was at least doing some things "right" like breastfeeding, feeding her home-made organic fruits and veggies, keeping her on a regular schedule... Now that she's two, she's suddenly become so much more stubborn. I can't get her to eat anything healthy, she watches TV regularly, and she often stays up until 10 o'clock or later. I feel like I'm completely letting her down by not being a good enough mother. Sigh.