A big theme in our house these days is SLEEP. Or, more accurately, the lack there of it.
Don't get me wrong, at night we have been getting good quality sleep. Addie has been going down for bedtime without a fight - a few books, a song, a couple of cuddles and a rock or two in the chair, and waah laah - asleep.
Nap time, however, is a definitively different experience. It usually has a lot of No ninight mama. Nooooo ninight, pweeese. No nap mommy. NO NAP. Which is then followed by a lot of crocodile tears and pleading. Which is then followed by very slow process of picking out her nap time book. The book is then read. The songs are sang and rocking happens.
I get a hug and kiss and an I love you. And waah laaah - total fake out.
Almost every time, over the monitor I hear her talking to giraffe and pulling the musical toys that are still attached to her crib. I can hear roll around, play with her covers, and name the stuffed animals sitting on her shelf.
And then I start to hear the creaking.
Creeeak, crrrreeak, creak, creak, Creak, CREAK. The lovely rhythm of her forcefully jumping up and down in her crib. Creeeak, crrrreeak, creak, creak, Creak, CREAK. Creeeak, crrrreeak, creak, creak, Creak, CREAK.
And then the tears and loud pleas to. be. LET. DOWN. DOWN MAMA. Down Mama. DOOOOWWWWN.
Today after thirty minutes of my attempting to ignore her, I finally gave into her shrieks. I climbed the stair. I half stomped down the hallway and I opened her door.
Only to find my wide awake, overly energized daughter, jumping up and down, giggling.
Naked as the day she was born.
Not a stitch of clothing. On the floor around her crib - her pants, her shirt, her diaper.
On her face? A huge smile.