The Mystery of the Missing Nap
January 28, 2010
Today was the fourth day in a row of Wonky Naps. If there is a fifth day we are going to require medication. For me AND the kids.
Well, it's just Jack, actually. Molly, preferring to begin each day at Ungodly Hour O'Clock, goes down like an angel, directly after lunch. She requires her blankie, her pacifier and a kiss on the nose, then she's out. Bliss!
I used to be able to say the same for Jack, but for whatever reason, in the sequence of Becoming A Big Boy he's decided to skip Potty Training and go directly to No More Afternoon Nap. You don't need me to tell you that this completely unacceptable.
For one thing, he is only TWO. Sure, he's turning three in May, but I am doing my very best to forget that is even on the horizon. TWO. Two is not old enough to skip naps. For another thing, said two-year-old needs his beauty rest more than any other human being I know. God help the person who has to deal with an overtired Jack (ME).
He skipped his nap on Saturday. Fine. He does it every once in a while. We deal. On Sunday he'd been singing to himself for a good hour when I decided to get him out of bed and use him to entertain the little girl I was babysitting that afternoon. MY MISTAKE. As the evening wore on he morphed into Actual Devil Spawn and turned bedtime into World War Three. People say that no afternoon nap means an easy bedtime, but this kid wasn't having it. We knew he was desperately tired and eventually left him to scream himself to sleep - thank goodness it took all of thirty seconds. The third day he napped, but not until two and a half hours past his usual nap time. And same with today. AND I AM DYING.
I have a secret special method for surviving my days at home with a two-year-old and a one-year-old and that method is called: COORDINATED NAPS. These kids go down for their naps together every single afternoon. I get my two, sometimes three, hours of uninterrupted emotional bonding with the internet and then I can power through the evening witching hours. If I don't get a good nap I'm toast.
Lucky for me, even when Jack isn't sleeping he's mostly content to hang out in his crib singing the ABC song nine thousand time. He's getting Quiet Time, but I'm pretty sure he still needs a NAP. Until yesterday I would have said these skipped nap days were once or twice a month. But four days in a row of Nap Refusal? I'm hoping it's just your average bout of Nap Weirdness, but I must ask: at what age did your kid give up the afternoon nap?