Wednesday, March 28, 2007


Sometimes, when one's child won't nap (hypothetically, of course. Piglet would never do any wrong.) one might start to lose the ability to get anything done. If, say, one's child decided that 20 minute naps twice a day are PLENTY to get him might not have a lot of free time to post on the blog, do laundry, or eat. It's really a good thing that I was a teacher for eight years because it prepared me to be able to do a whole lot of things in a very small period of time. It also taught me how to eat on the run, to inhale my food, and to always be planning what I will do in my next [small] block of time so that it's ready to go in my mind, no need to think about it.

Piglet has become a fantastic, FABULOUS night time sleeper. He likes a nice 7:45pm-7:45am slumber. Without waking up. All night. For real! It's awesome. Yet, somehow in this sleeping phase, daytime sleep has been neglected. It has been deemed unnecessary. It gets in the way of Piglet knowing what is going on and there's a [very minor in my life] chance he might miss out on something fun. Piglet is 6 months old. Piglet weighs 16 pounds. Piglet is a Piglet. But I firmly believe that Piglet needs to sleep at least forty-five minutes at a nap. Call me crazy, but all the books say that babies this age need 15-16 hours of sleep a day. Well, we're getting a good 12 at night, but one in the day doesn't seem right to me. I think what the book meant to say was this: "Six month old babies should get between 15-16 hours of sleep per day*"

*except for Piglet.

Anyhoo....this lack of time to do anything is how the mountain of laundry grew to dangerous proportions in my living room and I lost the dog for a while. It had been an hour or two and I realized I hadn't actually laid eyes on Gus for a good while. I began an exhaustive search, walking by the mound two or three times before I spotted this:

Where's Waldo? Gus style

One teeny sliver of beagle tail poking out from beneath a pair of freshly laundered jeans. I giggled and went on with my day of not getting anything done. An hour or so later, Piglet happily ensconced with a Tupperware cup, I began rapidly folding clothes, only to unearth this:


Still there. All happily buried in the laundry. Ensconced if you will. All of my children were ensconced. Nevermind that my clean clothes now smell like putrid beagle, they got folded and even put away during the next napping period. Mad skillz, baby. Mad skillz.

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