Sitting with Overwhelmed Children

Eight years ago on this night, I wasn’t sleeping. My body was feeling the contractions of my third child coming. The Little Pirate was on her way. Her birth was special. It was calm, peaceful, fast. Just like her sisters, she came out of my womb on a stool in front of the fridge in our kitchen. No pain killers, all-natural, her father sitting behind me and a nurse to guide her straight into my arms. She didn’t cry. She just came out at her pace, we looked each other in the eyes, and all was well. Tonight she did cry. Her middle sister too. We’re right in crazy-week. Tomorrow is her birthday. The day after it’s Sinterklaas, maybe the…