The Boy Who Done Kicked My Ass

Who, me?

Yes, you, Cubby. You, my sweet, precious child, who absolutely and without any doubt refused to take a nap yesterday. There was much screaming at the very idea of being left in your crib, like, "WHAT KIND OF CRUEL MOTHER WOULD LEAVE ME HERE ALOOOONE?"

Except louder than all caps and much higher-pitched. Not unlike a demon had been unleashed in your room, in fact.

And so there was no nap. There was no break. There was no time for your mother to do anything that required even a brief respite from running after you. Things like showering. Or copy editing to make some much-appreciated cash money. Or, perish the thought, going to the bathroom alone. No time for any of that, because there was no nap.

I am going to pretend that this was a one-time thing. An aberration. That today we will resume our regular schedule of at least one nap. Just one. An hour. Please. It helps so much with my productivity. Not to mention my sanity and my patience for playing that game where I pop the pegs out of your hammering bench and make them "fly," which makes you howl with laughter but can get old when I've done it approximately forty times already and have not had even one minute to call my own.

It also helps with your mood. What child can be happy and smiley when they've been awake for twelve hours straight? Okay, actually, you were surprisingly chipper, if a wee bit hysterical. But still, you'll be happier if you take your nap.

Trust your mother. She knows best. Take your naps and the world is a better place.