The joy of napping

Why is it that when we are 2, 3, we don't want to take a nap, and when we are 32 (or 40, as the case may be) we would give our first-born for a nap some days?

Maddie had a busy day at preschool, which ended with 30 minutes of playtime, outdoors, in the fresh, cool, fall air. This was followed up by 40 minutes of tearing around the viewing area during Sam's gymnastics class, with a rousing and loud round of tag with her friend Molly.

She came home. She was cranky. Loaded down with purse, blankie, the ever topless Ariel doll, and Dolly (creativity doesn't come naturally in this house), she fought her way into the house, ("I want to pay outSIDE") and upstairs through another no-holds barred diaper changing battle (I wonder what the Weight Watchers points was for that?). Gave a pitiful last attempt at fighting the nap, then laid all four (yes FOUR) blankets on my shoulder and snuggled in. 1 minute later, asleep.

Soon she will wake up. If God is smiling on me today, she will be rested and happy. However, He has a great sense of humor, so she may wake up, yelling that she wants to go back to bed.

Me too.