A moment of silence for the passing of a dearly beloved family member.
. . .
That's right, folks, my eldest child has stopped napping altogether. For months I've been putting off my grief, living in denial, justifying that he fell asleep at least a few days a week, so really he still napped.
Not so anymore. For two weeks I made him rest in bed for a while, then let him read in his room for the rest of nap time. Then I just let him read in his room. Then I put a clock in his room and said he had to stay in there until 3pm. Day after day, in these last two scenarios, he'd come out earlier and earlier, stand at the top of the stairs (directly outside light-sleeper Silas's room), and stage-whisper (rather unsuccessfully, I might add) that he was ready to come downstairs. Silas would wake up and that would be the end of any peace for me.
Because really, that's what nap time is for, right? Peace for the mommy.
Anyway, I gave up taking him upstairs at all, and simply required that he do something -- anything -- in the living room while I worked in the kitchen or at the computer. Naturally, though I have never been a big napper myself, this coincided with the advent of third trimester and a sudden overwhelming need to lie down in the afternoons, which I can no longer do peacefully because I have a chatty four-year-old trying, with various levels of success, to amuse himself in the same room.
There's that lack of peace during nap time again. Blah.
Enter: quiet time bins. You've probably seen them on other blogs, right? Special quiet activities reserved for quiet times, like when your eldest child won't sleep anymore but you'll just lay down and cry if you don't get a moment of silence in the middle of the day. (Not that I know firsthand.) I ran off to the dollar store on my Monday evening errand-running and stocked up on cheap bins and cheap things to occupy Levi's attention for a while.
It seems that most people do a bin for each day of the week, but I only did three, figuring I could supplement later if it seems to work:
. . .
That's right, folks, my eldest child has stopped napping altogether. For months I've been putting off my grief, living in denial, justifying that he fell asleep at least a few days a week, so really he still napped.
Not so anymore. For two weeks I made him rest in bed for a while, then let him read in his room for the rest of nap time. Then I just let him read in his room. Then I put a clock in his room and said he had to stay in there until 3pm. Day after day, in these last two scenarios, he'd come out earlier and earlier, stand at the top of the stairs (directly outside light-sleeper Silas's room), and stage-whisper (rather unsuccessfully, I might add) that he was ready to come downstairs. Silas would wake up and that would be the end of any peace for me.
Because really, that's what nap time is for, right? Peace for the mommy.
Anyway, I gave up taking him upstairs at all, and simply required that he do something -- anything -- in the living room while I worked in the kitchen or at the computer. Naturally, though I have never been a big napper myself, this coincided with the advent of third trimester and a sudden overwhelming need to lie down in the afternoons, which I can no longer do peacefully because I have a chatty four-year-old trying, with various levels of success, to amuse himself in the same room.
There's that lack of peace during nap time again. Blah.
Enter: quiet time bins. You've probably seen them on other blogs, right? Special quiet activities reserved for quiet times, like when your eldest child won't sleep anymore but you'll just lay down and cry if you don't get a moment of silence in the middle of the day. (Not that I know firsthand.) I ran off to the dollar store on my Monday evening errand-running and stocked up on cheap bins and cheap things to occupy Levi's attention for a while.
It seems that most people do a bin for each day of the week, but I only did three, figuring I could supplement later if it seems to work:
Divided between the bins, we have: two small puzzles, a fact-book about the 50 states (to go along with the states puzzle), a coloring-and-activity book, a box of crayons, a mini-MagnaDoodle, a small box of Dominoes, a book of easy word searches (a current favorite activity for Levi), and, in each, a book of reasonable length.
So far he's chosen the same bin twice (on purpose). He's also allowed to choose one of the other puzzles we have (50-60 pieces), any of the library books, or our Discovery Toys pattern blocks. Regardless of the activity, he has to stay in the living room by himself for a whole hour. And for the most part, except for the pressing need to show me one particularly impressive (in his mind) picture he drew on the MagnaDoodle, it has worked!
So, I may not get to nap anymore, and I'm glad this didn't happen until I finished watching all the seasons of West Wing, but at least I can clean the kitchen or research school activities online or play mindless games of Solitaire -- whatever it takes to decompress, some days -- without his little head peeking over my shoulder. Love, love, love this inquisitive kid, but really . . .
Mommy needs some peace.
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