The death of the nap

Since approximately the beginning of November, my child has had yet another sleep development: wakefulness. Most specifically -- since this has been his problem since day one, really -- wakefulness and cheerfulness at night. Until, say, 9 or so. Since we had normally begun bedtime at 7, that's two hours of bedtime, of trying to get a wakeful child to go to sleep. After one memorable evening of sleeping at 10, long after mom and dad were (well -- wanted to be) passed out, we finally thought -- this doesn't appear to be a phase. Perhaps it's time to change things.

Yeah. We're bright that way.

The problem being, though, that we kind of need that evening time to ourselves; it's the only time we get together sans child or work all day. So just accepting that bedtime was now nine instead of 8 was just not an option.

And that meant: nap had to go. 

I have lived in fear of this moment. For two and a half years, the nap was the respite in the middle of the day. I didn't get much time (unlike many children who sleep hours in the middle of the day, the most The Boy would do on any given day was an hour and a half. If I was lucky.) but BOY, did I treasure that brief respite, a time to sit down, collect my thoughts, be on my own for a short while before becoming mommy again.

So I came up with, instead, a brilliant plan: Stop the naps at daycare (four days a week) and keep the naps on the other three days when we are home with him. I figure that this would work, most moms tell me that naps had to continue on every other day for a while with their kids in the nap transition phase. It's win-win! Time with the kid, but still get breaks, but bedtime doesn't extend into the wee hours! Whee!

Ha ha ha. 

Last week was the first one we tried no naps at daycare. The first day we came home with a child who crumbled to tears at the least little thing (my macaroni ... sob! ... isn't! ... sob! sob! curved!! .... I only ... sob! want Sob! THAT .... sob! sob! sob! pillow!) and we thought ... huh. But we persevered for the week, and ended up high fiving each other Friday night when he came home, spent the evening relatively tear-free, and went to sleep before 8, allowing us a luxurious hour or two to cuddle on the couch watching goodness knows what. 

Anyone else care to hazard a guess as to what happens after we congratulate ourselves on mad parenting skillz?

So we tried the nap Saturday, and bedtime again extended into the wee hours. 

Yeah. So the kid LIKES NOT NAPPING. 

I mean, sure, you can colour me surprised. Hates sleeping, sleeps minimally at the best of time, has an option not to nap .... is going to take it, for all it's worth.

But what that means is that this is WEDNESDAY. And I am HOME ALONE. with a child. And there will be NO BREAK. NO BREAK AT ALL UNTIL BEDTIME AT SEVEN. THAT'S SIX MORE HOURS, PEOPLE.

May I just pause for a moment for the obligatory I love my child really I do disclaimer. I do love my child. Really I do. But mothering an active toddler is HARD. I am a person who likes to read and knit and watch movies and I sit in front of a computer for a living and constantly moving? NOT MY THING. 

Anyway. Back to the freak out. AIIIIIIEEEEEEEE. What the heck am I going to do?? I had great plans to head to my sister's place, but I know that he would drop off on the drive home (45 minutes) thus really negating any kind of advantage of the extra stimulation of similarly-aged cousins. 

So we are home. We went to the beach and playground this morning; I have plans for the playground and / or library later on. There are also movies and such, I suppose. And I keep clinging to that realization that if I just keep this going, the bedtime will be, by comparison, relatively painless. And then I will have an hour or more to flop listlessly on the couch and breathe.

But ... five hours and fifty more minutes. I'm not sure how that's really going to go. 

AIIIIIEIEEEEEEEEEE!!!