If you ask any good mother which of her children is her favorite, she will vehemently say, “they are all my favorite.” Ask me who is my favorite kid, and I will tell you it is the one that naps with the least resistance that day. If we are talking this week, my favorite would be neither of them.
When my brother and I were acting a fool as kids, my grandmother would threaten to “sell us to the gypsies” if we didn’t shape up. Well where is the traveling band of gypsies now because I have two little blonde babies to send their way.
Somehow I have angered the Baby Sleep Gods and they are punishing me. Was I bragging in my circle of friends about my dream sleepers a little too loudly? Were the bags under my eyes starting to fade just a little too much to their liking? Was it the fact that I watched a Giuliana and Bill marathon on the Style Network this weekend and started getting weepy over their new baby? I started whining to Hubby that I needed another baby, mine were too old and planning on leaving me soon. Was this the wakeup call or a kick to the uterus that I needed to remind me that I really need a few more years of sleep before another go round?
The showdowns this week have been epic and one sided, and each time I am the big loser. I have rocked the kids, sang sweet songs to them, tickled and rubbed their sweet faces and chubby arms. Then after an hour of this nonsense, my blood starts to boil, and, let me tell you, nothing says slumber like your crazed mother screaming “GO TO SLEEP BEFORE MOMMY LOSES IT.” Sorry, Mommy, it sounds like you already lost it.
Monkey is almost three and a half, and most of his friends have already dropped their naps. My mommy friends have told me that I should just be happy that I had three and a half good years of napping out of him, but I don’t want to, dammit! I need that kid to nap and his sister, who, by the way, has been a champion sleeper until this week. She has decided to get in on the action and scream like a mad woman in her crib instead of sleeping. All I can do is dive head first into a jar of peanut butter to calm my nerves and keep me from boozing mid-day. I won’t even begin to ponder the age old question of why do kids fight naps when as a grown ups, we would love for someone to tell us to nap.
I have lost all control this week without the kids napping, and I fear for my own sanity if I don’t get the sweet relief of naptime tomorrow. I even have a song that I sing once both kids are asleep. It goes like this :
Naptime is my favorite time. Yes, naptime is my favorite time.
OK, so it isn’t original, but it is the truth. I could be wrong, but I think I heard Monkey and Mimi singing in unison from their rooms:
“You got bags under your eyes and I feel bad for you son. I got 99 problems but a nap ain’t one.”
Again, I’m really exhausted and I could be hearing things.
The only concession to these non nappers is that tomorrow is another day. I promise to be a better mother. A more kind and patient mother. Oh forget that, the only concession to the non nappers is the fact they go to bed at 6:30.