Sometimes it's so hard to be patient and to know where the line is between clear consistent expectations/not putting up with demands and whining vs. being flexible and compassionate and meeting them where they are at. MC was a real pain about staying in bed. Scared again. Dealing with another fear episode this week since watching Dr. Who with his big brother at Dad's house. I was impatient. I was cold and unyielding and uncaring. And then I changed my mind. He got out of bed, again, and came into the living room where I was reading with a cup of tea (finally by myself) shaking and whimpering and getting quite teary-eyed. I wasn't warm and lovey dovey about it, which perhaps I should have been, but I told him that if he made himself completely unnoticeable he could fall asleep here. "I don't want any sign that you are here," I told him. No talking. No noises. No wiggling. No looking around." He laid down and was perfectly still and quiet and asleep in just a minute or two without a peep or a single movement. Hard to know if I a) was too mean and should have been more compassionate, b) did the right thing, or c) caved and gave in to his demands. I think a or b. But it's so hard to find the right balance.