This same little girl who napped was a pleasure to be around in the evening, and her parents did not count down the hours until it was bedtime. Evenings were filled with leisurely dinners, stories, and bath time. The naps were held in high regard by the household and the parents hoped they would never leave.
Now we find ourselves brutally
ejected from Napland – never to return. It was a gradual departure,
nonetheless, we are gone, baby, gone. Honestly, I’m really surprised that my
lovely little girl doesn’t nap anymore. She was always good about going down
for them consistently and got quality rest. However, as I write this, I am
literally listening to her bang around in her room like Casper the Friendly Ghost.
I fully expect to go in there in thirty minutes and find she has nailed every
toy she owns to the ceiling.
It is what it is. Our afternoons
are lessons in Managing Meltdowns 101, and I am the beleaguered instructor. At
first I was wildly irritated at the discharge from Napland, now I just adjust
bedtime up an hour or two…or three. A phase, a phase - one that I hope to say “farewell”
to promptly.
