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Answering Life’s Biggest Questions
Naps: The
Shortest Two Hours of the Day
By Abigail Fischer and Katie DeLand
Dear A+K,
Is it me or do my kid's naptimes defy normal laws of
science? Where do these precious minutes go? Why do the two
hours to myself seem like the shortest hours EVER? Am I mismanaging my
time? Did I really spend two hours plucking my eyebrows? What have I
been doing?
Sincerely,
Naps Nearly Missed
Dear Naps Nearly Missed,
It's glorious, isn't it? That first quiet five minutes when the littles
are sound asleep. The options are endless. You plan to accomplish
so much. So very much. You think of the to-do list sitting
untouched out the kitchen counter and mentally conquer those
scribbles. But then it kicks in--your House Task Attention
Deficit Disorder. Was that the dryer that buzzed? You reach in to
feel the clothes that are bone dry and decide that indeed they need 10
more minutes because Dr. Phil is about to explain all that is wrong in
this world.
Feeling refreshed and off the hook, you lace up your sneakers because
today is the day you will (again) start the treadmill habit. But
first, you remember that you reallyyyy need to clean out the chemical
oasis that exists beneath your kitchen sink. This is a job that
you can really only safely do sans kids, unless you want to log in yet
another call to Poison Control and risk getting red-flagged in their
system. So there you sit in your spandex and ponytail on your
kitchen tile, surrounded by bottles oozing of questionable acids.
Just then, the doorbell rings.
WHO WOULD WREACK SUCH HAVOC? Your 10-lb guard dog starts yipping
and your blood pressure shoots through the roof as you nervously listen
for any sounds of stirring from the nursery. You smack your poor dog,
despite knowing that he innately was only trying to protect you, albeit
from the FedEx man who is once again bringing you smiling Amazon
boxes. Your smile gets even wider when you realize it is the book
you ordered in a literary haze of aspiration. One chapter won't
hurt.
Forty-eight pages later, you hear your paradise crashing down with the
words, "Mommy, I up." Noooooooo. No. No.
No! Your tennis shoes have yet to set foot on the elliptical,
your kitchen floor is a bio-hazard zone and you are now too connected
to the characters in your book to just stop cold-turkey. Dinner
plans have not been tackled, toilets have gone unscrubbed and those
thank-you cards you planned to write mock you from their unopened
seals. Another naptime that evaporated in the wind.
So yes, naps are indeed the SHORTEST two hours of the day. Our
advice is this: Make the last 5 minutes of nap time count. This is when
you race around the house performing karate-chop movements while
throwing toys and papers out, organizing bills, and pressing "Refresh"
once again on the dryer. After the sweat you break in those cardio
moves, consider your workout DONE.
Sincerely,
A+K
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