maybe you should’ve counted a few more sheep

naptime blog

I have a love, hate relationship with nap time at our house. In fact, some days I just can’t muster the courage to even try to put my children down. As nap time approaches, I do a quick poll in my head – Is it worth it today? Or, can we try to survive until bedtime?

Now, let me explain. I LOVE naps. It is a beautiful thing when the stars align and both of my children go down easy and sleep like sweet cherubs. I adore those days. And, really, the drifting off to sleep is not what sends me into near panic attacks. It’s the wake up.

The wake up that makes me want to hide under my own covers. The wake up that immediately makes me regret nap time. The wake up that is the reason I practically toss the children at the hubs when 5 o’clock hits.

I loathe the wake up. Imagine a mother grizzly bear. You have just trapped her, and then decide to steal her cub away. But, you don’t stop there. You then proceed to sit just out of her reach and taunt her, while arbitrarily throwing acorns at her head. Now, bottle all of that anger and rage.

Austin’s fury at wake up time is the equivalent of that mother grizzly bear.


He cries and screams and just when you think he’s done, you glance in his direction, and it begins all over again. Usually, this goes on for about an hour. Bribery begins shortly after the first wail: a cup of water, a cup of animal crackers and cartoons expertly positioned for maximum efficiency. Sometimes it turns the grizzly bear into a mere rabid dog, and other times it only prolongs the outburst when we run out of the beloved animal crackers.

The real fun is when both boys wake up simulataneously. Everett is a dream napper in the mornings. But, there is something about afternoon naps that leaves both my boys a shoe in for leading roles in The Exorcist. Everett completely loses his mind. You know that bottle he doesn’t need for another hour or so? Yeah. He’s decided he’s going to die if he doesn’t have it five minutes ago. Oh, and that diaper, that he just wet .05 seconds ago. Yes, that should have been changed preemptively.

When I hear people gush over how much they love nap time, and how they themselves sneak in a nap too, I dislike them a little bit… okay… a lot. Because even when the children are sleeping, I sit there waiting. Waiting for the explosion that is our afternoon. But, it’s okay. Because at the end of the day, I know there will be chocolate.

just give me a box of crayons

It’s 10 p.m. on the eve of A’s first day back to preschool. And, I stare blankly at an equally blank piece of black construction paper. No inspiration. No motivation. This will be his placemat at school for the entire year.


Now, normally, when given such a task, I would have written his name neatly in the corner, or, perhaps, even used stickers for his name, and then let him color to his heart’s content. I love my son’s artwork even if it’s just a bunch of scribbles to the rest of the world. But, that wouldn’t work this time. Because they gave him a BLACK piece of paper, which means crayons are out and markers are worthless. That’s about the extent of my “craft” closet.

This is really one of those moments where a degree in Pinterest would come in handy. Or, a Pinterest fairy godmother would work, too. But, no, here I am with nothing, counting down the hours until I have to come up with something.

As the paper continues to taunt me, my thoughts wander to what the other moms are doing for their child’s placemat, and then to A’s new school year. And, I begin tallying all the holidays and parties this year that will undoubtedly become Pinterest-inspired extravaganzas. And, thus, instead of making a miracle appear on this piece of paper, I felt compelled to write a letter to my children instead:

Dear Children,

It’s best that you know and accept this now at an early age. I love you. I love you more than you will ever know and always will, but, please know that you should never equate my love with my skills as a crafter. Because I am a Pinterest failure.

It’s okay, and I can openly admit that. I would love to be crafty and fill your lives with designer birthday parties or intricate snowman inspired breakfasts or amazing marble race tracks.

But, really, it’s probably not going to happen. Most trials have ended catastrophically. Forget the dinosaur shaped sandwiches accompanied with fruit shaped palm trees. I’ll try to remember to cut off the crust. And, those adorable homemade Valentine’s… I hear Target has an excellent selection that even include temporary tattoos. If we ever own an Elf on the Shelf, that’s where he will stay… on the shelf. And, I still believe intricate homemade baked good can’t touch the ease and deliciousness of the Pillsbury ready bake cookies.

So, while Mommy may pin hundreds of pins that are just “Adorable!” and “Brilliant!” and would make every other mom in your class swoon, let’s not get our hopes up, kiddos. Because most things that should come out looking like a masterpiece end up straight to the trash.

The best advice I have to offer is to become best friends with the kids whose moms excel at Pinterest. And, maybe that mom can hook you up with treats for the bake sale when she sees you stroll in with a bag of Oreos.

With love,