Naptime: A SAHM's Savior

If you're like me and have small children, then your day goes something like this: morning chaos, pre-nap activity, NAP (cue Hallelujah chorus), post-nap activity, evening chaos, BED (cue wine). Somewhere inside of all that you're lucky if you can run a brush through your hair, pull on clean yoga pants (not because you're going to yoga class ever again - who are you kidding?), or even make it to the bathroom (this is actually required since you don't have time for a UTI). The only way one can possibly survive all this craziness on a daily basis is if the NAP (cue angels singing) occurs.  

Therein lies the problem. They know you need this time. I use "they" because the lines are drawn at naptime. It's no longer a happy "us" situation like: "Aren't we having fun at the park? Don't we love MyGym?"  

No way. Right after lunch the pronouns change and read like this: "You look tired. I think it's time for you to have a nice nap."

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm pretty lucky. I have a 23 month old and a 9 month old and both are fairly solid sleepers, and I've manipulated it so that the baby has a long nap when his brother does. So I can usually spend my 2 hour chunk of time agonizing over dinner, folding laundry, and wondering if I can get away with running the vacuum cleaner. And I do all of this in the company of Bo and Hope, and Daniel and Jennifer, and Sami and Rafe.

THAT'S RIGHT. I am a 33 year old SAHM who loves Days of Our Lives. I've loved it for most of the days of my life. Don't judge (ok, I would totally be judging you). Yes, I have a DVR. So please don't think that I'm chucking the kids in their cribs at noon so as not to miss a single second. I'm not. I may be thinking about it. But I'm not actually doing it.

So if you're like me and know who John and Marlena are then you know that today was a big day in Salem (we should also probably be scheduling playdates since we seem to have so much in common). And I really wanted to watch the re-dedication of the Horton Town Square.  I really did. And we had a great morning activity so everyone should have been tired out.

But no.

However, there were no harp-playing cherubim in my house today. Instead, after a few moments of quiet when I thought everyone had fallen asleep, the nightmare began. The baby started wailing. The toddler started chucking loveys and pacifiers out of his crib. I would go in and calm both boys down when all of a sudden one of the dogs thought we were under attack by nonexistent squirrels outside of the house. Then the laughing from the toddler would cause shrieking from the baby WHEN ALL I WANTED TO KNOW WAS HOW SAMI WOULD REACT TO SEEING AUSTIN. For goodness sakes.

I sat in there rocking the baby, while literally talking my toddler off the crib ledge: "Don't you put that leg over the bar. Lay down. Please lay down. PUT THAT LEG DOWN!!!"

All the while seething about how they must have known that today was the day of the big party where much would be revealed.

This story does have a happy ending. Eventually, they both fell asleep and the dogs quieted. I did make dinner and clean up from the morning mayhem. And I did get to experience the hushed silence due to John's unexplained wheelchair. (I'm sure Stefano is behind this, but how?!?!)

And we did have a great afternoon at the park after all of the daytime drama (ha ha). So that's good.

I'd like to think my frustration and stress have led me to some epiphany. I mean, we always have the same routine (although we don't have sleep struggles or epic soap opera events every day). Ah, forget it.  

Wait! I just realized that we might not always have a nap-time. Where's the wine?