Naps

Naps are mandatory in our house. I carefully coordinate my days so the kids will be asleep at the same time every afternoon.

I would like to say this is because I know how important it is for kids to have this time to be rejuvenated in the afternoon. I would like to say that I do this because I want to give my kids a set schedule. I would like to say they nap because it is good for them.

The truth is, I believe all those things. But that is not why my kids nap.

I thrive on nap times. Knowing nap time is coming in a few hours is sometimes the only thing that gets me through difficult, tantrum-y (and not just from the kids) mornings. I look forward to it. I hold no regrets as I lay the last child down and tiptoe quietly to the door, my eardrums ready to pick up the peaceful, rhythmic, sound of deep sleep. I love my children all day, all week, all year, no matter what is going on. But sometimes I love them even more as they nap.

When I know for sure both kids are asleep, I get to turn off my mom switch. I don't have to worry about who is eating what off the floor; who is drawing on the walls; and who is whining for the umpteenth time because he wants another piece of candy. The large part of my brain that is used to thinking about these things all the time finally gets a rest. The creases in my forehead relax. I even get to eat that last cookie I've been saving, or have a grown-up lunch where only one napkin is necessary, and the only part of the silverware that gets dirty is the part that goes in the mouth.

I have one rule, and one rule only during nap time; I cannot spend the majority of it cleaning house. I have gotten good at getting the chores done while my kids are awake and involved in other things. Most of the time, I'll jump on the internet and do some blog browsing. Sometimes I'll move to my light and airy bed, where a lovely cross-breeze cycles through the apartment, tickling my feet on its way through. I'll enjoy the sound of the birds and the clacking of my keyboard, and the occasional shout of an older child playing ball outside. Sometimes I will watch an episode of a favorite show, or look up a recipe for dinner. Sometimes I'll completely waste my time and do nothing productive whatsoever.

Often, I begin on the couch, meaning to leave, but never quite getting to it. This is a beautiful thing--I get to choose. I don't have anyone asking me to do anything. If I want to move, then so be it, I can move. But I don't have to.

There are many women out there who thrive on nap times because it is their chance to complete the million projects on their list. They whip out the sewing machine for some mending or to finish their niece's quilt, or they'll crochet 42 hot pads and a pair of socks. These women love the time to be productive. But I have a sneaking suspicion that these women are also the ones who don't sleep as well at night and who may very well never be satisfied with their domestic efforts.

Not me. I don't care one whit about being productive while my kids sleep. I am completely satisfied with my mediocrity. My floors need to be mopped? Who cares! It's nap time. What's that you say? There's been clean laundry in the dryer since this morning, and it really should be folded? Oh, sorry, my ears are turned off. Weeds in the garden? Dirty, smudgy windows? That pair of pants I was going to hem? Ironing?

Rubbish. It all can wait. I am queen, and nap time is my domain. Making the rules is my specialty. Keeping them is my escape. An escape, so it seems, that is squarely centered on sleep.

And in my world, that is exactly how it should be.