Last night, around 10 o'clock, I played with my son for a while. He still seemed eager to continue, but I really couldn't hold on anymore. My wife had already fallen asleep, so I just lay down.

My son was lying in the middle as usual, looking at the lights. I don't know when he stopped fussing and just lay quietly. Usually, he doesn't like lying down when he doesn't want to sleep, but I didn't notice when this change happened.
I turned to the side and watched him for a while. He kept looking at the light above. He called out, "Dad, there are bugs." I looked up for a moment and saw a big mosquito. Then I got up and used the electric mosquito swatter to kill it. He was very excited and happily said he found a big mosquito. I praised him a few words.
Then I lay down again and watched him for a while. He just lay there, breathing in and out, watching his belly rise and fall. I was very tired, but I hadn't fallen asleep yet. I didn't know what was going on inside his tiny head—whether he was thinking, "Why aren't Dad and Mom playing with me?" or "Why do I have to sleep when it's bedtime?" or "Did I scold him a few times today, and how many times did he cry?"
Later, I don't remember what happened because I fell asleep. When I woke up in the morning and thought about these things, I felt that I often neglect my son's feelings because I focus too much on myself. But I also felt helpless—unsure how to do better. I don't have much time or energy to do so. I want him to be happy, but I don't have the ability to meet all his desires. I feel powerless.