Sunday, August 8, 2010

Nap Wrestling

My son needs naps.

There is no way around this fact. He turns into a high pitched wailing tornado around 4 pm if he hasn't been put down for a siesta. I mean a F5 on the Fujita scale, ultimate devastation! Our living room can go from spotless to thrashed in less than a half hour. I don't even know how its possible. He's only 19 months old, where did he learn these techniques.

So in order to combat these afternoon meltdowns we use the time honored tradition of the Nap. The only problem with this is he isn't a fan. If you catch him on those rare occasions he will take a Baba and snuggle into my chest and drift off to dreamland. More than likely its going to go down with more punches, kicks and blood than a UFC pay per view. The only advantage I have is size and determination.

He is a dirty fighter too! Some of his favorite moves are the eye gouge, nut kick, and head butt. All of these pale in comparison to his last ditch effort, The Entire Face Scratch! He takes his fingers (this is most effective if he needs his nails trimmed, which seems to be every other day) and uses my face as his personal blackboard digging and pulling all the way down. It is every bit as painful as your imagining right now, and more so because he loves to insert those blades into every opening they can find along the way. Bloody noses lips and blurred vision are usually accompanied with his naps.

These are the moments that I wonder whose kid he really is? Or what is possessing him? I don't know whether to put him into a bear hug and hope it smothers him into sleep or toss him across the room and run for my life.

This is the moment when it's all worth it, and I've won!
After all of that I know victory is right around the corner when he puckers up for his nap time kiss. All the violence ends and he becomes my sweet little boy again. His eyes close with his long eye lashes fluttering for the last time and he snuggles in. I know that I've finally won when his quiet little snore begins to tickle my shoulder. In that moment, and for the next two hours usually, it was all worth it.

1 comment:

  1. Great read! My challenges lie more in keeping my 11-week-old son swaddled. He's a regular Houdini; no matter how tightly we swaddle him, in a blanket with velcro attachments, he ALWAYS ends up with at least an arm free. Often it's two arms, and occasionally even a leg escapes during the night!

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