Naptime.
Oh, those sweet precious moments when the house falls silent, dirty lunch dishes sit patiently, and my life appears to be my own. For 17 glorious minutes, I believe it to be true.
Such a bold-face lie.
Mamamamamamamamamamamamamamamamamama
The name calling starts innocently enough.
My preschooler will settle down, I foolishly tell myself as I log into the Times to see the headlines.
Mamamamamamamamamamamamamamamamamama
If I'm quiet, she won't know I can hear her, the denial rising in my self as I switch from the Times to Facebook.
Mamamamamamamamamamamamamamamamamama
Hmmm. She will pull herself together, that denial so strong a moment ago now teeters on acceptance as I move to check email.
Mamamamamamamamamamamamamamamamamama
Uh oh. Only two beings can hear that high-pitched screech: the toddler and me. I quickly go through what will happen if I let it continue. It's not good.
The toddler will wake up angry from her slumber and start crying. No. Wailing. And she will not go back to sleep. Ever. I do not want to release THAT Kracken.
It's time for an intervention. So I stop pretending that I control my life and go see what's keeping my preschooler from sleeping.
It's Tinker Toys. Apparently, they make noises and turn into marshmallows. How can I expect her to sleep with all that action?
Thursday, September 16
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment