I haven't ever been good at taking naps when my child does unless I'm really exhausted, and lately I'm learning that I really should if I want to be any use at all in the evenings. If I don't get something resembling rest in the middle of the day, I can barely move after eight o'clock at night. I've gone to bed before my child on a few recent occasions simply because I made the mistake of lying down "just for a minute." And yet, here I sit -- in my blissfully quiet, cool house, not napping. Suzannah is in her room, also not napping, but I'm still holding out hope that she'll give up and sleep. She should be exhausted. I'm exhausted -- but in a good way, mostly. We've had a week full of perfect summer activities -- playing with the hose and sitting in her wading pool, making a trip to the Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle, spending a morning with a friend of mine and her two children, swimming and taking a Creative Movement class at the YMCA. All very fun things that should leave my child happy and tuckered out.
Apparently, I'm the only one in this household who qualifies as "tuckered out" and would gladly embrace a mandatory naptime. Still, Suzannah seems happy enough chilling in her room at the moment, so I'm enjoying some semi-quiet time, even if I'm not napping. Let me be totally honest here: her naps are good for her, yes, but they're essential for me.
Yesterday, Suzannah's daycare had its annual summer field trip, this year to the Woodland Park Zoo. I'm still sending her for a few hours a week to make her transition into fall a little easier -- that and she just plain loves it and would miss her little group of friends, most of whom she has grown up with since she was nine months old. Anyway, I never, ever miss field trips, even if I have to play hooky from school. I have little angst these days about finding a balance between working and mothering because our situation works so well for us (I think I worked that one out a long time ago -- who knows how I'll feel after two children, but that's another entry), but on those extra-special days, the ones we remember, that cause us to say, "Remember last year when..." everything else goes on the back burner if it's at all possible. I'm that mom, the one who immediately offers to drive and chaperone. So that's how I found myself zooming up the freeway yesterday morning with three kiddos in the backseat of my car and a cooler full of snacks and water bottles. Aside from a horrifying moment when Wild Child #1 shimmied out of his seatbelt and tried to open the door of my moving car on a busy road, the trip was fairly uneventful. Bonus points to me for not killing him on the spot, by the way. Apparently he does this all the time in his mom's car and she "doesn't mind." (It's particularly unfortunate that my sweet little girl -- who has never attempted to shimmy out of her seatbelt or open the door of a moving car -- is so enamored with him, but alas, she absolutely adores him. I have very little faith that she can reform him because it NEVER WORKS THAT WAY. Therefore, all of their interactions must be strictly supervised or he will PULL HER TO THE DARK SIDE. See? Matt and I will totally be able to handle her when she's a teenager.)
It was a long day, but it was a good day. We had one adult per 1-2 kids, it wasn't terribly hot, the kids were (mostly) well-behaved and cheerful, and when they got tired and cranky we gave them squirt bottles filled with cold water and let them spritz each other's faces. Suzannah loved the "stinky elephants," the penguins, the monkeys, and running around the picnic area with the boys at lunchtime. (Sigh.) I loved the cheeseburger I had for lunch even though I paid too much for it (have I mentioned how much I crave meat during this pregnancy?), all the animals (because I...just love them), the way the day started out so peaceful and cool and gradually warmed to a beautiful sunny summer afternoon, and watching my daughter take it all in. I love the sound of her laughter, her beautifully flushed face and wild halo of blonde hair, the way she so unselfconsciously throws herself into playing and running and just being so wonderfully three.
She didn't even nap on the drive back. At home, she played with every toy she owns until Matt came home, at which point she announced that she would like to go to the park, please. So he took her, and I collapsed for awhile. On the plus side, she was sound asleep just past 9:30 last night, which is a heckuva lot earlier than she's been going down.
Today we were back at it, meeting one of my friends and her kids for a morning of swimming and Creative Movement Class at the YMCA. The swimming was supposed to just be a little time-filler before the class, just a dip in the little 2' pool, but that ended up being Suzannah's very favorite thing ever. She was so excited to go swimming, and although it took her awhile to work up the nerve to get in the pool, once she realized that she could touch the bottom and I was right there, she bounced around joyfully and, predictably, didn't want to get out. I enjoyed it, too -- sitting or kneeling in all that water felt so much more relaxing to my pregnant legs and feet than walking for six hours. We talked about the pool all the way home after lunch, and I know she'll be excited to tell her daddy that she "went swimmin' in the water!"
Driving home, she struggled to keep her eyes awake. She even said, "Mama? I wanna take a nap." It was the most beautiful sentence she's spoken all week -- certainly better than the chock-full-of-attitude "I don't wanna sleep, Mom" I heard on Tuesday. (Mom?) Sadly, it was also a lie, because she is most definitely still not sleeping; she's rearranging her entire bedroom, from the sounds of it.
But it's a cool afternoon, and Matt is bringing home pizza for dinner. Ah, summer.
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