Remember when I used to bemoan the constant struggle between Scotty and I to take a nap? Namely, my desire for him to sleep, which in turn, allowed me to sleep? (or blog, or clean the house, or -- the greatest luxury of all -- shower?)
I'm happy to say we have reached a truce.
Naptime has become a glorious time of day. I'm not sure when it happened or how it happened, but I want to let all new mothers know this: it gets better. Really. The nap striking, the crying, the cursing of the baby monitor -- it seemingly ends with a whimper. And before you know it, you actually find yourself enjoying the afternoon bedtime routine.
Scotty and I have it down pat. We eat lunch around 11:30. He finishes up about 11:50 and wanders over to the bop-bops in the living room after I wash his hands and face. As I clean up the kitchen, he makes a nice post-lunch poopie (in the privacy of the living room, naturally.) Once I've got the kitchen in working order, I head to the stairs calling his name. He usually grabs his stuffed dog ("Doggie," as he affectionately calls him) and begins the long climb up the stairs. At some point, he will turn to me and hand over the dog to allow both hands free to climb. I am usually shouting "Go!" and "Up!" as this happens, while turning my head in the other direction to avoid the ungodly stench that is wafting up from his bum.
After what feels like two hours but is actually closer to two minutes, we've hit the top of the stairs. He takes his dog back and charges into our bedroom. I continue to his room, and by the time I am closing the blinds, he's entered the room and is closing the door. When I ask what time is it, he replies, "Night night!" (oh, blessed language skills!)
There is a quick diaper change while I gag and he giggles, more cuddles with the stuffed puppy, and some books. With those fabulous words just rolling off his tongue, he asks for books and I actually know what he is talking about. ("Moo, baa, ya ya ya" is a daily favorite.) We sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" 2-3 times, play a quick game of "Where's Scotty?" (hint: still there!) and it's crib time. I put him face down on the lion blanket, he waves, blows a kiss, and shouts, "Night night!" and I am free to be me again. For approximately 45 - 90 minutes.
It's a beautiful, beautiful thing.
I'm sure now that I have typed this out and put it into the universe, the nap strikes will attack again. But for now, I acknowledge that while we haven't won the war, we've won a battle. And what a great victory it is.
I'm happy to say we have reached a truce.
Naptime has become a glorious time of day. I'm not sure when it happened or how it happened, but I want to let all new mothers know this: it gets better. Really. The nap striking, the crying, the cursing of the baby monitor -- it seemingly ends with a whimper. And before you know it, you actually find yourself enjoying the afternoon bedtime routine.
Scotty and I have it down pat. We eat lunch around 11:30. He finishes up about 11:50 and wanders over to the bop-bops in the living room after I wash his hands and face. As I clean up the kitchen, he makes a nice post-lunch poopie (in the privacy of the living room, naturally.) Once I've got the kitchen in working order, I head to the stairs calling his name. He usually grabs his stuffed dog ("Doggie," as he affectionately calls him) and begins the long climb up the stairs. At some point, he will turn to me and hand over the dog to allow both hands free to climb. I am usually shouting "Go!" and "Up!" as this happens, while turning my head in the other direction to avoid the ungodly stench that is wafting up from his bum.
After what feels like two hours but is actually closer to two minutes, we've hit the top of the stairs. He takes his dog back and charges into our bedroom. I continue to his room, and by the time I am closing the blinds, he's entered the room and is closing the door. When I ask what time is it, he replies, "Night night!" (oh, blessed language skills!)
There is a quick diaper change while I gag and he giggles, more cuddles with the stuffed puppy, and some books. With those fabulous words just rolling off his tongue, he asks for books and I actually know what he is talking about. ("Moo, baa, ya ya ya" is a daily favorite.) We sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" 2-3 times, play a quick game of "Where's Scotty?" (hint: still there!) and it's crib time. I put him face down on the lion blanket, he waves, blows a kiss, and shouts, "Night night!" and I am free to be me again. For approximately 45 - 90 minutes.
It's a beautiful, beautiful thing.
I'm sure now that I have typed this out and put it into the universe, the nap strikes will attack again. But for now, I acknowledge that while we haven't won the war, we've won a battle. And what a great victory it is.
RSS Feed