Today was what I guess you'd call "one of those days." If by "those days" you mean a day where I really did consider getting in my car putting it in drive and going. Keep in mind that to get out of the driveway I have to go in reverse and that by putting it in drive I'd be plowing straight into the woods and you get the picture. Naptime just went straight to hell. I don't know what went wrong. We have a routine, we stick to it. Nobody around here is crazy. We know you do.not.mess.with.the.routine.
Fed the Weebs her lunch, went upstairs to nurse the Peanut and tuck him in. Only he didn't go to sleep. Fine, so I'll tuck him in anyway and go get W ready for nap. Maybe he'll just fall asleep on his own. Diaper, hands and face washed, all fifty seven required lovey items located and thrown onto the bed... arrg there is the P is over the monitor starting to sound panicked. Upstairs I went to discover a funky diaper. Well okay, fair enough kid. Get him all cleaned up, nursed (again) and tucked back in. Teeth brushing for W, another diaper and into the bed with some books. All through Goodnight Moon and ChickaChicka Boom Boom I could hear him up there doh doh dohing and smacking at his crib farm wondering why it wasn't playing. Nurse the W alllllllmost to sleep and figure she'll get herself the rest of the way, things are getting desperate upstairs. Up I go to find a wide awake six month old. Sigh. Fine little man, into the saucer you go. I figured I'd let him hang out with me in the office awhile before his nap.
What's that noise? The Weeble is up? Seriously? WTF? Back downstairs to threaten her with time out if she didn't get back into bed. Major tantrum. She insisted she wanted to sleep upstairs so, wait a minute? did you pee AGAIN? diaper change #3, then up we go to her new toddler bed. I hated to discourage her since she was asking, even though I knew it was going to end badly. Sure enough she was in, she was out. Threats were made. I threw her in her crib for a few LOUD minutes to show her I meant business. Moved Peanut back to his crib since I didn't want to leave him alone in the saucer... back downstairs with W... and so on and so forth. It took me 2 1/2 hours of constant nursing, changing, and threatening to get those two to sleep. I sunk into the couch with the laptop ready to tweet my misery when oh.my.GOD is that my son up already? Seriously did I run over the Patron Saint of Naps' cockapoo or something? Not even ten minutes he slept. As I pondered what to do I heard the Weebs downstairs wailing. Are you kidding me? No freaking way. The afternoon did not improve from there. And as I write this my husband is outside pushing the toddler in the stroller for what must be the ten millionth mile trying to get her to sleep. There's always tomorrow right?