Ode to naptime

It is nap time. I have a great appreciation for nap time for several reasons. One of those is the chance to be productive. On any given day, I wake up right around 800am. My husband leaves at about 730am. I allow him to think that I sleep in everyday until about ten. I do this for two reasons. 1) He then can feel that he is taking more of the greater role in usefulness, this makes him feel more manly, and alpha-male-y and happier when he gets home to a warm welcome after a long day of building things out of gummy bears at his desk... Yes, I shook my head as well, but that is a story for another time. Next reason 2) I JUST DON'T HAVE TIME TO TALK TO HIM UNTIL THEN!

At about 700am our dear bear-child awakens with little shouts of joy from his crib. He is such a good boy. He will lay in his crib and play with his animals, blankets, talk out the window with the birds for a solid hour, at least. I've noticed that his mood is not as pleasant during the rest of the day, if he does not have this closed door, uninterrupted alone time in the morning. By the time my man-child leaves for work, I have had him fooled into thinking that I do not hear the little X'er in the other room chatting and playing, and am soundly asleep. I already listed the reasons for this behavior.

I crawl and stumble my way out of bed to the bathroom by 800am after the once joyful cooes and chatter turn to whines and cries for attention and sustenance. Today was a delightful morning, as the bear has a seriously green-goo-flowing-from-the-nose issue. How I love teething, and other mommies who don't wash theirs or their children's hands. Whatever the reason for this slime, after wrastling (yes, wrAstling) the child into a clean diaper, and wiping him free of all sweaty smells and little balls of fuzz, I must now embark on the journey of the nose-sucker...

When you leave the hospital after giving birth the nurses give you this- well- nose sucker. It is a rubber ball with a tube fused to it. You squeeze the ball, forcing any air out, and then insert the tube into the baby's nose, release the ball, and it sucks the goo out of aforementioned child's nose, and into the hollow rubber ball. A perfect example of osmosis, actually. At any rate, my poor little boy doesn't know whether to laugh or cry, and in most cases, he does both. He laughs when I squeeze the ball to remove all air from it, making a high pitched squeal and forcing a rush of air, and then cries and raspberries (he raspberries when he is angry or upset- God bless him, I can't keep a straight face, when the child cries or yells in frustration, for this very reason!) as I use the sucker to remove all goo from the poor baby's nostrils. Finally I get to wiping any excess goo from his nose, and we then move on to breakfast.

Mealtimes are rarely a problem with the bear. He LOVES to eat. Most mornings we go with the good old juice/oatmeal/banana combo (in baby form of course). This morning was the same, with strawberries also in the mix, for added vitamin c. While he is sitting in his highchair playing- Post breakfast- I have a chance to text the husband good morning and see how his day is going thus far. We are right around nine thirty or ten am by this point.

We have what is supposed to be "Bear, learn to play on YOUR OWN" time, but really ends up being, "I will whine until you come play WITH me" time. I'm getting better about ignoring the whining and going about my chores. But it's still quite an issue. During this time, for five or so minutes here and there I will try to pay bills, make the necessary phone calls, clean, make beds, and get a load of wash into none other than the washer. On most days, the laundry and bill paying are the only things that are accomplished during this time. Phone calls are generally avoided during bear play time, as I never know whether I will catch a Jekyll or a Hyde mood.

Lunch is at noon, quickly followed by NAP TIME. At nap time, my sleepy child goes to bed for a good 3-4 hours. That is when the magic happens. I get to clean, and cook, and defrost, and call, and lastly, peruse the Internet as my heart desires. Rarely will I sleep. Sleeping would be the only thing that could make nap time more desirable. Wait, I lied- And ice cream. (Mmmmm) X-Man seems to have an espionage device built into his body which triggers an alarm anytime that I start to eat or sleep. Really. The second my head hits a pillow, or I raise silverware to my lips, the alarm, in the form of "Mommy come NOW" screams, sounds off.

But aye, I will not tarnish the bright and shiny gift from The Lord that is nap time by talks of its disturbance. People should make love songs about nap time. I have about an hour left, and there is steak which must be thawed and marinated. Until next time...

Rach