Napping is an incredible thing. What, I ask you, what would we do if our babies (brace yourself for this one) didn't take naps? My mom has informed me more than once that when I turned two, I declared that I would no longer nap. And guess what? I no longer did. Not ever again. Not once.
I never understood why my nap protest was such a big deal until now. The hours my eleven-month-old sleeps during the day are magical. Don't get me wrong, I love every minute of his raucous, let-me-climb-all-over-the-sofa-and-grab-every-hazardous-item-in-sight-not-to-mention-stick-my-finger-in-every-electric-socket wakefulness. But nothing, and I mean nothing, would ever get done without those naps (not to mention the fact that if he didn't doze during the day, he'd most definitely crumple into a sad little pile of tears and mush by 5pm).
During a recent BBQ-slash-pool-party that my husband and I attended for his work, which happened to take place smack dab in the middle of wee one's afternoon nap time, I strollered my baby for a full hour, round and around the pool, hoping against hope that he'd fall asleep, even though he generally refuses to pass out anywhere except his crib (usually a blessing, but other times, not so much). By the end of the endless loop, my baby was asleep, and I was mildly inebriated from the margarita mix that I sipped as I circled (hello, that's why we bought the City Mini cup holder add-on).
A mere twenty minutes later, Baby was awakened by an overly-lively coworker. I just smiled and said in a margarita-induced haze, "Oh, that's okay!" while secretly wanting to scream, "WOULD IT BE EVEN REMOTELY ACCEPTABLE IF I CAME OVER TO YOUR HOUSE AND WOKE YOU AT 2am!" but, at the risk of sounding like a lunatic, I refrained.
PHOTO CAPTION: The calm before the (napless) storm.
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