Usually I feel like a pretty competent human being, an adult even, and that’s good because I’m 34 and we have three kids.

Last night was not one of those times. I love my kids, I really do, but last night I hated all three of them. As Daniel Tiger says, “it’s ok to have 2 feelings at the same time.” Thanks DT, you get me. Anyway, loved and hated my kids last night. Mostly hated.

I was feeling pretty good about myself, which is almost always a sign that things are about to fall apart in a big way. But, the evening was progressing well! They had a pretty well balanced dinner, pizza, and they had taken a bath, read some books, brushed their teeth, so all signs pointed to sleep!

I put Sophia in her crib and she let out a blood curdling scream. That seemed bad. I looked into my bedroom and saw Grace and Henry jumping on my bed. That seemed bad, too.

I wrangled Grace and Henry and told them they had to quietly and calmly read books in their rooms while I got into my battle position to put Sophia asleep, also known as lying on the floor next to the crib singing lullabies for 10 years, I mean minutes. Sophia started to drift off by the 27th rendition of Mocking Bird when Henry literally jumped into Sophia’s room and shouted “I have to poop!!!!” Lovely, buddy.

Several things I should probably point out.

1. Henry is in the final stages of potty training and so our encouragement has created one of the most enthusiastic and proud poopers I’ve ever met. This sometimes leads to situations where he cannot contain his excitement about an impending poop.

2. Sophia’s room is actually our walk-in closet…I know, right? But, as I said, my kids are insane and we just couldn’t orchestrate a sleeping arrangement that involves any pair of siblings in the same room, so that left Sophia with few choices. Our walk in closet is large and easily fits a rocking chair and crib. Look, she’s not in the sock drawer!

3. While I’m being honest about word choice, Sophia’s crib is actually a pack-n-play. Ain’t no one got time for fancy cribs when child 3 is born. Sorry, Soph.

I think that’s all you need to know to complete the visual of me lying on the floor of our closet next to Sophia’s pack n play with Henry looming over me shouting about poop. Yay, bedtime.

I took Henry to the bathroom and of course he didn’t go. Sophia was screaming for her life, and Grace was sitting up on her bed sobbing.

I went in to Grace and asked her what’s wrong. That was a mistake. Literally everything was wrong! She didn’t like her bed, the window, the night light, her pajamas, her pillows had beer on them (she calls tears beer) and she needed a grown up to fall asleep. Yikes.

Then Henry climbed into Grace’s bed and started making himself cozy. He also started to ask me for water over and over and over and over. I explained why he couldn’t have anymore water and asked if they wanted me to sing them a song. That was also a mistake. After they stopped fighting about which song, and I had sung a few, I explained that I couldn’t take the sound of Sophia crying anymore and I needed to go comfort her. I promised them I would come back and they immediately began sobbing.

I’ll fast forward through the rest because it was basically some variation of what I’ve already described.

Eventually everyone fell asleep.

Sophia fell asleep in her pack n play once I pulled it out of the closet and put it beside the bed so she could see me. Grace and Henry snuck into my bed and fell asleep in yoga-like positions somehow allowing their tiny bodies to cover a disproportionate amount of bed space.

I eventually fell asleep and woke up this morning ready to go! I had my morning coffee and took Grace and Henry to preschool. Sophia is currently taking a nap and I’m writing. I feel human again. (Fully functional until 7pm.)