bedtime is the hardest

As I lay Charlotte down for the night she questions the color of her new bottles.  "I want pink bottle" she says, then she raises her voice and demands, "I want pick bottle mamma". Please, I respond to her, trying to encourage some couth. I annoyingly satisfy her request because it is bedtime and I don't feel like fighting about it.  I return to her room with the newly poured pink bottle and she freaks out, crying, pitching a fit.  "I want purple bottle back mom".   You can imagine my frustration this 9 o'clock in the evening.  The tears filled my eyes as I thought about the audacity of this child that has never wanted for anything being so rude and demanding.  Does Charlotte have any idea that her sister goes to bed hungry, that her sister to be doesn't ever get a choice of her bottle color.  Sometimes I just can't take the selfishness of my own children.  Sometimes I just don't know when my emotions will get the better of me, when the littlest thing will make my throat ache for my daughter not with me.  I will say though, bedtime is the hardest.  A time when all of your children should be under your roof, a time where my thoughts often go to Neha.