Sunday, September 25, 2011

stealthly stalkings

Every once in a while, Harper takes on the sand man and refuses to yield to his wily ways.

Last week, we had two such "naps," which I'm positive had nothing to do with a toddler rebellion and everything to do with a visit from Grandma and anything she could possibly be doing with Grandma is infinitely more interesting than sleeping. Because Grandma.is.awesome.

Oh, she doesn't fight it in a violent sense. She's perfectly happy to sit, stand or jump in the crib while talking, singing, or telling herself baby jokes that even make me laugh. And if I didn't know we'd have to deal with a super crabby toddler until bedtime, I would be thoroughly entertained to sit outside of her door and listen to her antics. Or just go in there and hang out with her, because she's funny!

But I wait. And I listen. And I give her time to herself, even if she isn't sleeping, as long as she isn't crying. And try to go about what I need to do... silently, so that she doesn't think she's missing something. 


Without fail, I'll drop something. Or kick something. ..CRASH. And I'll hold my breath and listen. And if she's truly asleep, which is the norm, she'll never stir.

But Friday?

5 Stuart Little stories. Tucked in. Lights out. "Sleep tight!" exchanged. ..She thinks we nap when she does.

The jumping starts. . . .

Then the laughing starts. . . .

"Jumpy, jumpy, jumpy!"

I reward it with a silent, out-of-sight giggle.

15 minutes in, she tells a particularly funny story to herself. I can only pick out the words "house" and "pywamid" but they seem key to the punchline.

30 minutes in, CLANG! Impromptu drumming session on the crib. Drumsticks sound disturbingly solid. "one, two, fee, foh! dwum dwum dwum dwum! hit it, hah-puh (harper)!"

45 minutes in. . . I haven't heard anything in 5 minutes and I'm almost ready to start dinner when I drop my phone. Gasp. Hold breath. ...silence.

50 minutes.. I'm getting way too confident and bustle about the living room a little. And kick Fisher-Price guitar. LOUD RIFF. Bawaaaawng! ((cuss, then hold breath))...silence. Phew.

60 minutes.. Mailman knocks on the door for a signature, but we aren't expecting anything particular. Annoyed (and holding breath), I consider that he's probably an axe murderer posing as a mailman. ..But he does sorta look familiar. You know, like our mailman. But by the time I decide he's not going to kill us, he's gone. ..Still, silence. Wow, she's a good napper.

65 minutes in.. Am definitely in a heated, albeit silent, laundry-hanging frenzy. If the mailman, the guitar and the phone didn't wake her, she's out. ..like usual. I am content and victorious, knowing I'll have a happy, well-rested girl up in an hour. When I sneeze, I'm careful to bury my face in my arm and stifle it to all but extinction, although I'm not worried.

65:30 minutes in.. "Bwess you, Momma!"

66 minutes in.. Halloween decorating commences with gusto.

3 comments:

  1. LOL LOVE IT!!! Just wait until she stops napping altogether. I cherish the days when Michael randomly naps but then silently curse because when he does nap it's 9 before he goes to bed.....so I get to be productive while he naps and then I'm exhausted until he goes to bed. Lately for some reason though when he gets sent to his room for not cleaning his toys I find that after about 10 minutes it's silent. I go peek in and he's asleep either on his floor or he's tucked himself into bed. He's funny like that.

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  2. Oh Amanda. I rue the day Harper drops her nap. Seriously. I hope, hope, hope it's no time soon!

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  3. Michael stopped around 3. He had already stopped napping at daycare and on weekends it was sporatic. Then it got where he just would not stay in his room and kept coming back out and nap time turned into "go back to your room and lay down" being repeated about 30 times. I finally gave up and he didn't need it anymore. It's rough on mommy though cause some days you just need that hour of quiet and no interruptions ro a little person trying to steal anything and everything that you eat and drink.

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