We had a glorious morning, Dad entertaining the girls and eliciting the peals of laughter that make the walls wend inward ever so slightly as if to take the joy in to the very marrow of the house, Mom slept in, the sounds from below caressing her, and then later, the living room drenched in mid-morning sun reflected off the still impressive snow banks, we frolicked. Laughter, conversation and overriding parental pride. It was a perfect Sunday morning.
Enter nap time.
Dancing eyes quickly became murderous glares. Giggles and whispers became screeches and screams. Feet stomping, lungs pumping and indignation swirling, Avery refused to sleep. Briar served as line judge, declaring the latest protest and act of nap time rebellion with a a voice that seemed hard to believe was not amplified by megaphone and a stadium sound system.
“AVERY IS NOT SLEEPING.”
“SHE IS BANGIN’ DA WALL.”
“AVERY IS SAYING ‘NO, NO, NO TO DAD AGAIN.”
“SHE IS BEING A BAAAAAD GIRL.”
The explosion lasted 10 minutes, after which reserves were sent in, more tactics were employed and the announcer called:
“AVERY STILL IS NOT SLEEPING. SHE IS NOT GOING DOWN.” “Not without a fight,” we shared silently through a look.
We held up a good front, but when all was said and done, the best strategy was one of inspired acquiescence. Exhausted with repentance welling in her eyes, Avery’s head collapsed in my lap, I caught Sean mouthing, “Go ahead and rock her,” and I did. She was asleep before I’d had my fill, Briar’s head popped up and she smiled before slipping under her covers and rolling toward the wall and sleep.
It is perhaps not the way the books would have us do it, but nap time is something that defies logic and, though it has its merits, is something I will one day rejoice in no longer having to enforce.
And when that day comes, you will miss it too.
I was astonished by how grateful I was to see the end of naptime, no matter the loss of those coveted few hours in my day. It turned out that the battles over nap had really worn me down, more than I'd believed possible.
i can take the fighting, just give me back the nap…weeping, months after the fact.
So much beauty in one life
I was very blessed to have good nappers, to the point where we could hardly skip a nap without dire consequences later in the day. I do miss the little bit of quiet in the middle of the day.
How cute. But dude. You're in for a world of hurt in the future if this keeps up!
"she is bangin' da wall"
I swear I'm putting that on a t-shirt.
I'll miss nap time when it goes away, too. We're pretty lucky, he's almost 3 and still NEEDS that two hour nap so it's not too terrible getting him down. I doubt he'd go down, though, without one of us laying there with him.
Screw the books. I know they say you're supposed to put them down and let them go to sleep themselves, but I will miss more than anything watching my little one drift off.
Naptime, you gotta take it how you can get it.
Oh the sleep time agnst I have endured over the years! Now my older two are well past naps and fall quickly and painlessly into deep sleep at bed time, while their little sister is the poster child for bed time bossery. I tell myself it will past, she will become as they are, but some days and nights the jumping through hoops to get her to sleep drains me to my core.
We still (G is almost 5) have very occasional naptimes… Mostly they happen if we're driving somewhere any time after 2pm. I used to think I "Needed" the break nap time provided, but now I find other ways of finding quiet if I need it. Such as forcing them to slow down and snuggle with me ("just for five minutes!"). Luckily, they still want to make me happy slightly more than deal with my pouty face if they refuse…
I miss rocking, though. I think the best snuggles I've ever had were in rocking chairs.
eliciting the peals of laughter that make the walls wend inward ever so slightly as if to take the joy in to the very marrow of the house
Into these walls I steal silently to pilfer the tiniest bit of stored laughter for the succor of my silence-shrouded soul. And I praise you for your magical powers of verse that embedded this treasure of spirit-stimulus in my awareness.
How I do adore your word-weaving.
You are a gift to my Being.
I have often thought that ten years from now I will not regret one time I decided to rock my babies. In fact, I already regret that I didn't do it more Those years are fleeting.
i would kill to have nap time back. my son gave his up long ago and all too early.