Power naps may be the death of me.
Don’t get me wrong – its not me taking the coveted short and refreshing naps. Over the last four years I have probably averaged a nap a year. And those so-called naps are more like restful anxiety attacks. I lay there thinking about all the things I need to do and listen to the kids making noise downstairs, or making noise in my room as they wonder what I’m doing or if I can help them with their computer game.
Its not my power naps that are doing me in – it’s the power naps my kids are taking.
Just this weekend I was reminded once again the damage a 15-minute nod-off in the car can do.
We were at a birthday party and I purposely left a little early to get them home to bed early after a number of late nights. It was just after dinner, but it was already dark out, setting the stage for a perfect power nap. I knew right away I was in trouble.
I was on my own with the two boys so there was only so much I could do. Bellowing ‘itsy bitsy spider’ has turned into a lullaby for my youngest and cranking up the radio also doesn’t work. Now with the deep freeze settled in I thought it would be cruel and unusual punishment to open a window so I told my four-year-old to try to keep his brother awake and he did his best – screaming his brother’s name over and over again. Alas it was too late as the wee one was already hunched over in his car seat getting some not so needed rest.
Well one battle lost, but at least the older one was still with me – for about two minutes. The next time I looked back he was catching flies too and I knew there would be no early bedtime for anyone that night.
When we got home my husband and I got the bedtime routine underway immediately. We stubbornly held out hope after an exciting weekend spent with cousins and friends and aunts and uncles the power nap wouldn’t impede them falling fast asleep that night.
However, after two bottles of milk for the baby and my older son tossing and turning for 45 minutes in his bed we knew it was over. It was after 9 p.m. and the party was just beginning. A dance party broke out when the Backyardigans sang the cowboy polka and my youngest decided it was time to practice his slam-dunk. My husband and I were exhausted, but the kids had that 15-minute nap, which miraculously turns into an extra two-hours of energy in youngsters.
Finally at 11 p.m. we convinced them to go back to bed and they agreed – the power of the nap had finally worn off – this time.
