If I could convince my children that fighting nap time was futile, I would be a WIZARD. Everyone would be running to me for advice and I would find myself on morning talk shows all over the world.
Alas, that is not the case. I am not sure that I will ever be able to figure out that reason that children think nap time is some kind of twisted punishment made up by parents just to get rid of them for a few short hours (um…), and not a fantastic break in the day to SLEEP, which is awesome, and not be an asshole by 5pm.
Naps save lives. I’m not sure if the children’s or the parent’s… but it does, mark my words!
Alas, when I say the resistance of naps is futile, I was referring to my very own resistance.
You see, Parker has LONG since balked the notion of ever napping in his bed. There was the one day reprieve from sweating all over me (yes, he naps ON me, at over 2 years old) but that’s been it. It’s all mommy, all the time. Mommy doesn’t have big boobs but she sure is a comfy pillow.
I have learned to choose my battles (I will write a whole other blog on that some other time), so instead of hearing him screaming for the better half of 2 hours in his room, mommy pillow it is. And to be serious, I don’t mind THAT much. How much longer is he willingly going to cuddle with me? Before I know it he’ll be calling me “mom”, or even worse, “mother” and will be embarrassed to be seen with me in public. I am going to soak this shit up for as long as he allows.
The problem lies in the fact that there is something about small children sleeping that is contagious. It’s airborne. Once they fall asleep, they give off what I like to call “baby tryptophans” that cause everyone in their relative area to find themselves being lulled into a comatose state along with them. They are worse than Thanksgiving turkey.
Being that my smallest spawn sleeps on me, I have absolutely no way of protecting myself from this.
Every single day I find myself snapping my head up after my chin has slowly fallen to my chest. This happens over and over and over, and while I know it sounds like I could be describing 99% of your run-of-the-mill porno, I can assure you, falling asleep and drooling on yourself while holding a 2 year old is not nearly as sexy (if you’re into porn, that is).
There’s nothing quite like watching tv, and then your eyes start to roll back; as hard as you try to fight it, before you know it, your jerking your head back up. You are slightly confused, you didn’t think you were that tired! You shake the feeling off, usually literally- but as soon as you think you have your head bobbing under control it happens again. This continues for a full 45 minutes and by the end you’re so groggy and your neck is so fucking sore all you can do is thank the sweet baby jesus that no one else was around to witness it.
Now I realize at this point you may be thinking “what’s the problem? Didn’t you JUST rant about how awesome napping is? Shut the hell up and TAKE ONE”
And that is where we get to the saddest part of the story:
Ok not can’t.. I CAN, but if I do, I wake up sick. Not just sick, but REALLY sick- and the entire rest of the day is ruined.
What kind of person CAN’T nap when they have every opportunity to do so? Me, that’s who. And to say that it SUCKS is the understatement of the century.
What I wouldn’t give for a few hours of peaceful slumber during the day, meanwhile, my kids toss, turn, whine, fight, complain, use the “I have to doodoo” excuse… every possible resource that a 2 and 4 year old could come up with, they do.
One day, and I know it’s coming sooner rather than later, they will be teenage boys who will love nothing more than to sleep the day away- and I will remind them of what asshats they were during nap time as children, although i’m sure they won’t care… and by that time i’ll be so old and exhausted that it’s likely I won’t even remember to bitch.
Maybe then i’ll nod off and not care anymore, and wake up actually feeling refreshed. Fingers crossed!
Every. Single. Time. pic.twitter.com/aAAWWjdrN3
I'm either "I HAVE 3 FRIES LEFT DON'T TOUCH MY PLATE!" or "Please take this so I can't eat any more of it!" There is no in-between.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.