Naptime Hell

He found me

We’ve all been there. Waiting eagerly, counting down the hours, rushing to get lunch done and cleaned up so we can-FINALLY-lay them down.
I have never, until my two youngest boys, hated naptime. Now, the hours before they actually fall asleep (from about 11:30 to 1:00 or later) is hell. HELL. I hate it with a passion.

All of my other children took naps great. They laid down, fell asleep, and I had two or more hours of peaceful silence. Now, I dread laying them down for naps almost more than the sweet relief when they finally fall asleep. I have come to dread naptime.

It is literally hours and hours of yelling “No!”, “Lay down!” “That’s enough!’ “Go to sleep!” “Be quiet!” “Get back in bed!” before they will finally drift off peacefully.

And my question is why. WHY?! Seriously. They are tired. They are cranky. They are emotional and obviously exhausted and yet…they will not sleep?! What is this curse that has been put upon them?! Did the Sandman decide he hated me that much that skipping these two boys would be good revenge? Did he decide I had used up all of my luck with the previous three and I was pass due for children who hated to sleep? Did I, through whining about naps when I was a child, make him hold a grudge against me for all these years?

Oh and don’t even get me started on the early mornings. Seriously. These are the only kids I know who are awake before the butt-crack of dawn (try like 4:30) and if I am lucky, will sleep in until (GASP) 6:00. IF I am lucky.

Naptime is not supposed to be dreaded by a mother. It’s just wrong on so many levels. And yet here I am, every day, dreading the moment I have to actually attempt to get them down and asleep before I can have my sweet moment of silence.


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