I Think it’s Nap Time

Photo by Andrew Branch. From http://www.unsplash.com

My husband and his friend traveled to Colorado Friday, so Abby and I spent the weekend together at home.  I’m not gonna lie, it was a little trying to not have my husband around to run interference all weekend.  He’s never been away from home so long since she’s been born.  
I had hoped to go to the park or take a stroller ride outside but it was rainy in the morning and hot in the afternoon. Regardless, we had a lot of fun playing inside Saturday and somehow even managed to get about eight loads of laundy done.  My mom came over to visit after she got off work and we had a good time.  After supper we read books in our pajamas and had a smooth bedtime.

Sunday was a different story. We visited the library where we first went to the children’s section and played with some puzzles and then picked out four board books to take home. Then I checked the card catalog for a book I wanted to read and we went to the basement to find the non-fiction books.  As we were walking down the aisles Abby decided to yell as loudly as possible and not stop, so I decided that we were going to leave even though I was not finished because she was not quieting down with anything I tried.  We then went to Hobby Lobby just to walk around and again, she decided to yell all over the store.  We went home and ate lunch.  After lunch she flitted between one no-no to the next: trying to touch the flat screen TV with her toys, playing with the nightlight in the hallway, stealing the dishtowels from the kitchen, removing all the foam corner covers from every table and shelf, sticking her fingers in the air vents, pulling on the Venetian blinds.  Each time I would tell her no she would cycle to the next thing she could find.

Mom needed a break.  

“I think it’s nap time,” I say.  Automatically,  she decides to start bucking about the floor and throwing a fit.  I place her in her crib and she curls up with her wubby and falls right asleep.

Woohoo, nap time!  I collapse on the loveseat and let the silence of the house and the buzz of the monitor wash over me.  I didn’t realize just how tired I was.

All too soon Abby’s catnap is over and she is back to being ornery.  I break my rule of only letting her watch half an hour of TV a day.  We turn on Air Buddies and she stands still for the first time all day.  “Dog. Dog. Dog. Dog,” she points at the TV, enthralled for the next fifteen minutes.  After I decide she’s had enough we go to the kitchen to start to decorate a cake when we hear the jingle of keys at the front door. She squeals with delight, “Dada!”  I’m not sure who was happier to see him.

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