You are my nemesis.
Yes, you. You with your soft, rhythmic lull and sleep inducing hum.
Some days I try to thwart your efforts with all my might. I play loud music. I sing songs at the top of my lungs. I reach behind me and try to tickle little feet.
Today I failed.
My sweet, darling daughter was O.U.T. – snoring softly with a little bit of bubbles gathering at the corner of her mouth. Yet the second I unbuckled her seatbelt all hell broke loose. I cursed you under my breath. She cried and cried and then remembered that I had promised her a hot dog for lunch.
We ate. We ran around a bit. We read a book.
And then I put her down for her nap. She didn’t fight me. But thirty minutes later I could still hear her playing. Then she started kicking the sides of her crib. Ten minutes later the tears started and didn’t stop.
Oh no you don’t. I know what you are trying to do. You don’t get to win this war. My little miss NEEDS her nap. I need her nap. We have things to do this afternoon and I don’t want to venture out with a cranky, whiny mess of a kid.
An hour later I try again. She runs from me, knowing what I’m trying to do. It’s way later than I like her to nap but I cannot deal with the no napping child come 6 pm. It’s torture embodied in a cute toddler body. Nobody deserves to deal with that.
Into the crib she goes. I tell her I love her and leave.
Don’t breathe. Don’t make a sound. Not. A. Sound.
I think we have victory. Huge sigh of relief.
Well, until I have to wake her in one hour to go to swim lessons.
She’s a peach when she wakes up…an absolute peach I tell you.
Damn you five minute car nap. Damn you.