I have a confession to make. On a lazy day, when there isn't much to do (maybe there is but I don't care), I LOVE to nap. There is nothing in the world like a good nap on a Sunday afternoon. Many a Sunday has been consumed with one of my favorite pastimes - napping. Put a boring football game on the television, a comfy sofa under my butt and it is like the perfect Tylenol PM but without the hangover. Needless to say, since the birth of Benjamin, I haven't gotten to enjoy my pastime. In fact, I haven't had a decent nap in about 20 months (yes, Ben is 20 months). By the way, don't let the picture fool you. This was at bedtime -- MUCH different.
However, I thought my luck was going to change a few weeks ago. The setting was perfect. It was about 4 in the afternoon, the temperature outside was a bit crisp, I was snuggly warm under a big blanket and Benjamin seemed to be occupied with Dad as they watched the football game. I closed my eyes. Then...tap, tap, poke, poke. There was a little finger poking me. When I opened my one eye. I had a little face in my face. I asked Ben to give mommy a break and let her rest a little. He listened and walked away. Eyes closed again. Poke, Poke. Then accompanied by the jabbing of my eyeball was the sound of "baba, baba" (that's what Ben calls me instead of Mom - not because he can't say it but because he feels the need to torture me at times). I tried to ignore him as I heard my husband snickering close by. I asked Ben if he would like to nap with Mommy. He said okay but he didn't mean it. He wiggled and squirmed and continued to poke at my eyelids. I thought never again would I nap. I got up from the couch and gave up on my napping. Maybe when he is fourteen and doesn't care so much about what Mom does. Maybe then I will get to nap again. Until then forget.