The Bad Mommy/Sane Adult conundrum

This past week, I was visiting my parents with the girls, while Mr. C was in Calgary at a work conference. I love visiting my parents, and I love how much my parents love it when I come with the girls to visit, so it works out well! There is always some time for myself, there are many fun things to do with Mum and the girls, and I get to have real, adult conversations with my parents in the evenings, over cocktails and dinner. That last part sounds especially good, doesn't it? I think so, too...! I'll let you know if it ever actually happens that way! We TRY to have real conversations and nice dinners, and often have some success, but even with the best-laid plans, of course, things will never go the way you wish they would!

This visit, Mum and I decided that we would feed the girls earlier (i.e. their normal time, as in my parents' house, dinner is almost always after 7:00pm). I would then bathe them and get them ready for bed, and they could watch tv as a treat while the adults ate. That way, the routine would stay consistent and I could have nice relaxing dinners with my parents.
The first night went fairly well; Mr. C was also there so we could tag-team like we usually do for the bedtime routines.
The next night, we did things exactly the same way. Feed girls, bathe girls, settle girls in front of the tv on the "big comfy couch," and chat around them until dinner. Of course, dinner was ready at exactly the time the melt-downs began. So the nice, calm, grown-up dinner was traded for whiny, crying, clingy children and me deciding I needed to put them to bed and then come back to the table. Once I managed to get them into our room, Big Sis did really well and got right into her bed. Little Sis was marginally calm as long as I was holding her, but of course started screaming like her hair was on fire as soon as I tried to put her into the crib. I tried everything and then put her down, apologized to Big Sis for Little Sis' crying, promised I'd come back after dinner, and left.

Back downstairs, my parents were great, supportive, saying, just leave them for a few minutes, it's ok, you need to eat, I'll go up soon so you can finish dinner, etc. And I know they were right. Because I did need to eat dinner. I was hungry, tired and disappointed in how the evening had gone, and it was late, and Little Sis needs to be able to self-soothe, and fall asleep without me having to be there (which she could do perfectly as a baby, and now as a toddler she seems to have forgotten she ever fell asleep without sleeping on me!)...

And still, I felt like the worst, smallest, meanest, coldest mother in the world. Eating my dinner, my favourite meal to have at my parents', listening to Little Sis cry and scream and wail, and I might as well have been eating cardboard with a sign around my neck that said "neglectful! shame! BAD mother!!" A no-win situation. And she did stop crying, eventually, what felt like hours later but was really before dessert, and in the morning she was as happy as a clam, with her usual sunny disposition (and love for me) intact.

But it was just another situation, one of many, that we all encounter and that leave us feeling like we have to choose - are we going to be a "good mother" or are we going to stay sane? Why do we feel like they're mutually exclusive?