I should feel lucky that this didn’t come earlier, I know. I shouldn’t feel disappointed, but I do. I shouldn’t feel a desperate pang of loss, but it is sharp nonetheless. We are at the end of an era. Braedyn is near, if not already at the end, of his naps.
He’ll be five next month, so I know this era has lasted much longer than many other children. But what the hell am I going to do now for MY quiet time!? This is when I blog. This is when I nap. This is when I read. This is when I get that ABC song I’ve heard an inordinate amount of times today out of my head. Boo hoo. Arm flailing toward forehead. Whoa is me.
He didn’t sleep today, even though his room was extraordinarily prepped for a killer nap. Dark room. Black light on. Glowing, spinning globe thingy providing white noise. Sound machine playing a soothing tune. Down comforter. Feather pillow. Quiet house. I’m jonesing for a nap just thinking about it.
So, how am I writing this today while he is awake? I did what any good parent needing a break would do. Turned on the TV. At least now my head isn’t swirling with “Now I know my A B Cs, won’t you come and sing with me.” Instead it’s jammin’ to “If we can count on you, Scooby Doo, I know you’ll catch that villain.”