Its currently pouring. You know the kind of rain where you hear the pitter patter of the drops on the roof and an occasional thunder clap. The kind of rain that makes you want to turn off all the lights and crawl under the covers for an hour or two. That kind of rain.
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.
I would be upstairs sleeping (or maybe showering cause that needs to be a priority in my life too) but instead I am listening to the pitter patter of rain drops interrupted regularly by the clomp of a three year old jumping out of his bed and onto the floor.
You see, it's nap time. For the last three years of my life from 1-3 it's naptime. It's time to recharge. Time for me to straighten up, blog, facebook, pee in peace, shower, watch Private Practice. It's breaktime. And it's time for him to rest. To stop the transition into terror and return to the sweet little boy who is rested and a pleasure to be around.
They say you never know how much you love something until it's gone.
Only I am all too aware of how much I love this time. At first I hoped it was a phase. It's always a phase. Right? That's the rule with kids. As soon as you figure it out, it changes. Only this isn't changing. It's potentially our new reality. We get maybe two naps a week now. The evenings where he crumbles on the floor into a ball of tears over having a blue shirt on at 6:30. Yeah. That.
So I call it quiet time. He's in his room and is not allowed to come out. Usually about an hour in I hear the door open and tell him to go back inside. About an hour and fifteen in he takes all his clothes off and picks out new clothes. An hour thirty in and he's opening and closing the door about every minute. When I finally go in to release the prisoner his goulashes are always out. There are books scattered around the room and he has removed the clothes he changed into and is naked.
We don't have fancy video monitors. It's probably better that I don't see what's going on in there.
I've tried bribing him to sleep. Fail. I do my best to wear him out (we went swimming this morning... outside... in October...weird) but alas, he's now playing the drums. And we don't have a drum set.
And so. On this rainy 'fall' afternoon I am releasing my hold on naptime. I am working on coming to terms with it. Just because I have to accept it doesn't mean I have to like it.
And if you think for one second that I won't still attempt a nap every day by enfocing quiet time, you would be wrong. Cause tomorrow? Maybe soccer practice will do the trick.
The Best part? One of my kids still naps. Twice a day. And. It's Friday. Happy weekend friends.