The One Where the Kids Won’t Nap
Never will I ever say that my kids are well-behaved or good sleepers ever again. The other night Joe and I tag-teamed bedtime, and after quickly laying Sophie down (as usual) I left the room to her smiles and quietness, feeling a tiny bit bad for Joe who was dealing with Grace and an epic meltdown over which cartoon character she wanted on her diaper (that’s right folks, not potty-trained yet). I commented to my sister and her fiance who were over about how Sophie is a dream kid who would quickly and quietly go to sleep without a fuss and was sleeping 11-12 hours per night. About .12 seconds after I finished talking, she started screaming for no apparent reason. I wish I were exaggerating. Joe came to calm her down, and circa 1 in the am she picked right back up again. Last night it was 5 am, and today she is boycotting nap time.
Joe laughs at me and calls me superstitious (I’m only a little stitious) but I think the timing proves him wrong. Plus, he’s the one who can sleep through the nighttime screams, so I think I’m entitled.
I’ve mentioned before how critical nap time is for my state of mind, and naturally, the kids have discovered and exploited my kryptonite today. They spent the last week doing their best to back up the laundry, even going so far as to come up with a schedule in which they made sure at least one of them woke up in a wet bed everyday. I didn’t let that get me down, so they tried another tack with more immediate results. As I type this, Sophie is sitting with me on the couch after soaking my left side in spit up and we’re listening to a serenade of some made-up song coming from Grace’s room. Always keeping me on my toes, they are.
Both kids are decidedly awake, Sophie is out of her formellia (Grace’s word, not mine) and I’m debating the merits of some liquid courage before braving the store with not one but two verrry sleep-deprived children. As much as I love Walmart on a Saturday (oh, did I say love? I mean HATE) that wasn’t really in my plans for today. Of course, we should fit right in there. I keep waffling between leaving Grace in her room in the hopes that she’ll eventually crash or letting her get up and shooting for the earliest bedtime of her little life.
I know all of you are jealous of what Joe will find when he rolls in around 10pm. The kids’ bedtimes just got bumped up (is 5 too early? 5:15 then.) and hopefully I’ll have sufficiently recovered some semblance of my sanity by then. Also, I hope to be wearing less spit up by then.
Update: I remembered a reserve of formula, so Sophie will get to eat tonight after all, and I don’t even have to leave. Unfortunately, this does not help my lack of wine that I was hoping to remedy on the outing. You win some, you lose some.