If you're like me and have small children, then your day goes something like this: morning chaos, pre-nap activity, NAP (cue Hallelujah chorus), post-nap activity, evening chaos, BED (cue wine). Somewhere inside of all that you're lucky if you can run a brush through your hair, pull on clean yoga pants (not because you're going to yoga class ever again - who are you kidding?), or even make it to the bathroom (this is actually required since you don't have time for a UTI). The only way one can possibly survive all this craziness on a daily basis is if the NAP (cue angels singing) occurs.
Therein lies the problem. They know you need this time. I use "they" because the lines are drawn at naptime. It's no longer a happy "us" situation like: "Aren't we having fun at the park? Don't we love MyGym?"
No way. Right after lunch the pronouns change and read like this: "You look tired. I think it's time for you to have a nice nap."
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm pretty lucky. I have a 23 month old and a 9 month old and both are fairly solid sleepers, and I've manipulated it so that the baby has a long nap when his brother does. So I can usually spend my 2 hour chunk of time agonizing over dinner, folding laundry, and wondering if I can get away with running the vacuum cleaner. And I do all of this in the company of Bo and Hope, and Daniel and Jennifer, and Sami and Rafe.
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