A horrible thing has happened. It is truly terrible. It is affecting me physically, creatively, and mentally. It is so tragic that I'm not sure how to recover.
My children have basically stopped napping.
Now, I realize that things could be far worse. Yet, this simple act of defiance from my children is wreaking havoc on me. I no longer get my much needed 1 to 2 hours to myself in the middle of the day. Back in the good old days, I used this time to write, draw, start dinner, fold laundry or unload the dishwasher in precious uninterrupted silence. Sometimes I would think or read. Occasionally, I would sneak in a nap or watch a selection of reality TV off of my DVR. But that was then, and this is now.
Today, after returning home from a busy morning which included taking the children to visit with Santa, I forced Thing 2 down for a nap. Post-candy cane and thoughts of gifts, Thing 1 was not even close to being tired. Being the understanding mother that I am, I made him a deal that he could stay up with me and watch a Christmas movie. I made stipulations though; he had to be quiet and I got to choose the movie. This apparently was not a great deal in his eyes, as he seemingly has no interest in turn of the century Christmas romances or prolonged periods of silence. After he required four snacks, too many answers to too many questions and the incessant bouncing, I encouraged him to "go play outside!" It seems he went out there, not to play, but to do some thinking. For when he came in the house, he walked over to me where I was relaxing on the couch, watching TV, and with a concerned look on his face, he said, "Mom, I think the TV might be rotting your brain."
I, on the other hand, am blaming the lack of naptime.
Peace, Love and Wine Tonight,