Photo above: Sleeping Beauty by Jennie Faber on Flickr.com
Have you ever read The Napping House by Audrey Wood? I loved that book as a kid. I loved the story well enough, but what I really loved was the pictures. The big, silly grandma, the splayed feet, the dog… all of these things reminded me a little bit of my grandma, except I was pretty sure she didn’t sleep at all except quite possibly very late at night and very early in the morning.
I am a napper. I am more than a little ashamed to admit this. I suppose there could be worse things to admit, but there is some sort of shame associated with my napping that makes me want to hide my head and run for cover. Possibly run for another nap, preferably someplace cool, with a big pillow and a long enough blanket to cover both my ears and my toes at the same time.
I remember when E was getting old enough to not really need a nap anymore, and I would sort of fight this. Then I finally just gave up and let him stay up with his daddy, as long as I still got a nap. Then B came along, and phew! Now I’m safe again; another baby that needs a nap!
There were times along the way that this very real fear would strike me and I would think about all of the time I am wasting taking a nap. I could be at the pool with the boys, I could be coloring with baby L, baking a cake with B. But instead, here I am sleeping. I also went through a phase where I didn’t take a nap, because after all, I work and don’t sleep at work… so obviously I am capable of making it through the day without a nap. Inevitably, however, I came back to it.
I think I have finally just accepted this about myself. That I am A NAPPER. I am not proud of it. I don’t think taking a nap for an hour or two every day is a qualifier I would list in the standards of A Good Mommy. But it’s me, and it’s who I am. It makes me really, really happy, and makes me a little more sane. I also wake up from my nap feeling like it’s Day Two – a new start to my day. Maybe when I grow old, I’ll feel like I got to live twice as long as everyone else because I got so many “extra” days in there.
Doubtful. I sincerely hope I don’t cry because all of those hours could have added up to a few more DAYS with my little ones. I hope I can just accept, and be, and my children will forgive me for my naps. I hope they come visit me and we can chat over Moon Pie and lemonade and they will tell me all the naughty things that they did when I was sleeping.
After I wake up from my nap, that is.