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  • Transition Accomplished.

    For the past couple of weeks, the girls' nap schedule has been kinda funky. The morning nap started shifting to late morning, ending at noon or even later, and the afternoon nap started becoming quite brief, if it happened at all. It was tricky, unpredictable, and sometimes exasperating

     

    Clio has been the primary instigator of the change -- she's always seemed to need a bit less sleep than Elsa, and lately the contrast has been sharper. But as devoted as we are to our children, we are not so devoted that we're willing to put up with two separate nap schedules. Also, we're spoiled: they've always been good sleepers. I think this is a combination of genetic good fortune (we are both extremely lazy) and concerted effort on our part, with help from Dr. Weissbluth. (Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child is our bible.)

     

    On Friday morning, Alastair was working and I was home with the girls, and I'm not quite sure what possessed me -- The balmy spring weather? The promise of morning trips to the zoo? Sheer derring-do? -- but I decided to see what would happen if I didn't put them down for their morning nap.

     

    I expected a total meltdown, especially from Miss Elsa, who generally turns into a cranky, eye-rubbing, whiny little...something...at around 9:30. And that did start to happen, but I promptly took the girls outside, and we played with the $1.99 drugstore balls I'd bought for them the other day -- you know, the same kind you had as a kid: marbled with various colors, kept in a big, cage-like container at the store. This outdoor play seemed to give the girls a second wind. Then we did some mega-lego construction, watched a little Sesame Street (sue me), and had an early lunch. I put them down for a nap at about 12:15, and they slept for almost two hours. Not too shabby! We put them to bed a little early in the evening, and that seemed to work out fine. For three days now, they've been on just one nap.

     

    The key seems to be keeping them (and us) occupied in the morning. So, on Saturday morning we went out with them to buy some gardening supplies (the Home Depot is a wonderland of excitement!) And today -- drumroll, please -- we went to church. Something that we hope to continue doing fairly regularly, until the girls rebel and become Orthodox Jews or Baptists or something. Why would that be rebellion, you ask? Well, it's a Unitarian Universalist church. Pretty liberal, pretty crunchy. But it reflects our values, and -- we hope -- will give the girls some grounding in the Judeo-Christian tradition whence they came, while also introducing them to other faiths. Having gone to church (Congregational) throughout all of my childhood and adolescence with my family, I also really value the community that a church (or synagogue, etc.) represents.

     

    I can't believe I'm saying this. For stretches in my life, I hated going to church. But here I am, a parent, glad in retrospect that I had the experience. Along with piano lessons and not being allowed to eat sugared cereal.

     

    Anyway, we first checked out this particular church on Christmas Eve, 2006, when I was great with child(ren). Then we went a couple of times when the girls were very small, and content to be held or nursed throughout the service. But since then, their nap schedule -- and our Draconian insistence on sticking to it -- has precluded the possibility. Until today.

     

    We were planning to keep the girls with us during the service (ha!), but a nice church lady told us that there was, in fact, childcare at the annex across the street. We had assumed it was for older kids, but lo and behold, there was a nursery room full of age-appropriate toys, several small children/toddlers, and nice, responsible teenagers to look after them. We've  never left the girls on their own before except with their regular sitters (in our home) or their grandparents. I feared that Clio would have a meltdown when we left. But she did just fine. In fact, she apparently did some dancing. And both of them ate a LOT of goldfish crackers. (No surprise there.) Meanwhile, we got to sit and enjoy the service. Though it pained me a little to leave them -- Clio, especially -- I also think it was probably good for them. And us. 

     

    Don't get me wrong -- we will miss the morning nap. Alastair moreso than me -- he's home with the girls four mornings a week when I'm at work. That nap was a nice little reprieve; a time to enjoy a cup of coffee and a magazine, catch up on email, or just catch a little more sleep. But as today demonstrated, there are upsides to the one-nap-a-day regimen.

     

    Full disclosure: the girls didn't sleep very well this afternoon after lunch. In fact, I'm not sure Clio got more than 15 or 20 minutes. It wasn't pretty. But I'm hoping that once they get used to this new routine, they'll start taking a nice, healthy two-ish hour nap on a regular basis. I have faith. (See what going to church once a year will do for a person?)


  • R.I.P. Morning Nap

    Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to say farewell to a dear friend: the two to three hour nap that Elsa and Clio have taken each morning for the last eight months.

     

    I think we can all agree, it was a good nap. A merciful nap. The kind of nap that allowed us to go back to bed and get a little more sleep, if we so chose. The kind of nap which is in part responsible for the fact that I've manage to write almost an entire second draft of a novel since the girls were born. The sort of nap that was always there for us, whether we needed to catch up on email or do household chores or even just enjoy a nice cup of coffee and a magazine in peace. We knew that the morning nap -- unlike the less predictable, much shorter afternoon one -- would never let us down, and we were grateful for it.

     

    But for everything, there is a season. And the season of the morning nap has now passed. Though we tried in vain to make it linger, we realized -- as we always realize -- that we are powerless in the face of two wide-awake babies who will have none of it. Babies who will fling their pacifiers out of the crib and scream bloody murder until mommy, who was supposed to get to sleep in today and would have made some different choices last night had she known she couldn't, has to drag her tired butt out of bed and hang out with them for the next three hours. To everything, turn, turn, turn, etc.

     

    Of course, this cloud does have a silver lining: the girls seem to be sleeping later in the mornings these days, until the humane hour of seven, even seven-thirty. And, with hope, they will take a nice long early afternoon nap, which we will love and embrace and accept just as we did the morning nap. It won't be the same, but we will survive. We will go on.

     

    Good bye, morning nap. You will be missed.

     

    Places to go, people to see, nap shnap. (Author's note: they insist on wearing these absurd hats all the time. Who are we to stop them? Again, powerless.)

     



in

About the Blogger

Jane Roper

Jane Roper in Boston

One baby? Piece of cake. Try two. This working mother gives you the inside scoop on the ultimate in extreme parenting: twins.

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