Margaret has decided (most days) that the nap is not something she’s going to be able to get behind.* She tries, she really does. Although yesterday, when she didn’t nap, she was at her grandmother’s house, and apparently announced on the way to bed that she was going to do the hokey-pokey in bed.
Anyway, one of the problems with this no-napping (besides the fact that I get no down time. Not that I need a break from my angelic child, no, not at all, but . . . well, never mind) is that by about 5, she’s had it with the day, but we still have to get over those important hurdles like dinner and bedtime.**
So usually she behaves like a very angry and powerless demi-god. She demands things – capricious, pointless things – very loudly. And then she changes her mind. And then she yells.
Which means that yesterday’s method of coping was a nice change.
She only slept for about 15 minutes, and if I stopped pushing her she woke up, but it was quiet and not filled with irrational demands for the pink milk, no not the purple one, the pink one, you ridiculous woman who is enjoying thwarting me.***
*Today, of course, she took a nap with no fuss at all, so I don’t have any pent-up frustration about the whole thing. So this post may be less comic than it could be otherwise.
**And, of course, she’s decided that if we put her to bed early, she’s going to make us pay by GETTING UP AT 5. So we don’t do that too much.
***It has to do with the color of the cups, not the milk.