Quite a bit of time has passed, years, really, since I sat with mothers of children my own age to marvel at some new development in motherhood. There hasn’t been any. We’ve all been there, done that. We can handle those new developments now, realizing, through our years of experience, that there are uphill climbs, and downhill climbs and new progressions require a meager shift in our lives. We have learned to yield, rather than, to create a mountain of what could be a simple mole hill.
Except for this one thing. Naps. Our children dropped them years ago by the age of 2, to our dismay. However, like all things, we got over it, and learned to juggle the daily domestic responsibilities with toddlers in tow, which soon gave way to having children in school.
Nevertheless now, we are amazed that we can take naps in the presence of our children. It is simply amazing. Once again, we as mothers, who put aside such “child development” conversations long ago, are discussing them, because we are so bewildered. We discuss how and where it happens:
- There was actually room for me on the couch, so I sat down.
- We were watching a movie together, and then, I just dropped. Exhausted.
It is odd, too how the kids react. This is new for them. They are as quiet as cotton. They do not want to do anything to cause a disruption in this peaceful slumber, so foreign to their eyes.
Of course, none of this could happen without our kids being old enough to handle themselves all by themselves. And second, we have handled just about any mess they kids could come up with anyway. We just don’t care what happens while we sleep. We just want some sleep.
Except for when the moment comes, about 20 minutes into the nap, when he really needs “something.” He creeps over beside me and begins to talk to my eyelids, as if there is a part of me that is always awake, and he merely needs to tap into that dimension, while the rest of me just goes on sleeping.