Nap Time

Call me Mother of the Year.

This is in memoriam to my favorite time of the day: Nap Time. Sadly, it is gone.

Like most toddlers (or so I am told) Peanut has given up on the daily nap. It's not much of a surprise, considering how much energy the child burns. Plus, I had been duly warned by various Mommy cohorts. The sagest advice comes from Nana and Grammy with their suggestion of "Quiet Time". I would think of this as a sensible idea, if not for the fact that Peanut snickers at the mere idea of quiet. If I didn't know three-year-olds were incapable of sarcasm, I would hold that the laughter would have that description. Then again, he is my child. Is it possible that sarcasm be passed through the umbilical cord? What a thought!

I remember with longing the days when my child napped for three to four hours at a time. While I was as exhausted as he, I realize that I got stuff done. Even when he went to two two-hour naps, showers were taken, laundry done, the house cleaned. With one nap a day, I still managed my work and even some desperately needed down time myself.

And now it's gone. And I have no idea how to cope.

There is one bright spot. Peanut is content to play with the trains by himself on rare occasions. Perhaps there is now the hope, however slim, that there will be moments of peace in my day. If nothing else, I'll steal them as soon as Boomer walks through the door.

Call me Mother of the Year.