David has taken almost zero naps since he turned three. We still go through the motions, though, every day. After lunch we read a book, turn off the light, close the blackout shades, and I cover him with his blankets just the way he likes it — white blanket first, then green blanket. I give him a pep-talk about napping, then shut the door.
I’ve always considered myself a cynical person, but for some reason I still have hope that this will pass. One day he’ll go back to napping and I can go back to eating Cheetos without having to hide the bag.
David stays in his room, awake, for an hour or so. During that hour I take him to the potty maybe four times. He plays with toys, throws things against the door, calls for me. Tonight Tom suggested that we Google some tips, and I told him that Pinterest is full of busy boxes and quiet time ideas for toddlers. I’ve tried several things, but David has been stubborn since he the day he was born. Why would David work a Popsicle stick photo puzzle when he could instead wrap the cat up in the curtain? Why would he build with sponge blocks when he could do this: shoot cars under his door, then try to get them back with a piece of a baby tub?
I don’t know when I’ll give up on the nap. Actually, yes I do. It’ll be when he stops needing one; when he stops getting that glassy-eyed look at 1pm and, skips his nap and then morphs into his Grumpelstiltskin alter-ego at 4pm. But until that happens, we’ll remain mutual hostages, holding each other captive and raising the stakes as the clock ticks down.
In case you couldn’t quite hear what he says at the end of the video, it’s “Someone get me out.”