Ahh Nap Time

There's not much that I don't love about nap time. Let's face facts, who wouldn't love two solid hours of quiet time. Two hours to do with as I please (as long as it doesn't involve leaving the house). Two hours with my own thoughts. Two hours with no one calling my name, crying, whimpering, or tearing apart everything in their path. Two hours of sanity.

But that's not even the best part. When we head upstairs, Bear Cub yells across the house to My Chef "Nigh, nigh Da-ee." Every step up, she yells a little bit louder until he responds. Then she starts in with the "Lau Ooo. Lau Ooo Da-ee." Which is Bear Cub for "love you."   Then we read a book, and I lay her down. She hardly ever fights it. We say goodnight to all of the friends she sleeps with and have one last little kiss.  As I am pulling the door closed behind be, she starts in "lau ooo ma.ma. lau ooo."  And we go back and forth yelling "love you" to each other until I have reached the end of the hall. Then she goes quiet. It's the stuff feel-good movies and chocolate commercials are made of. 

Then it's Me Time. I call it my lunch break. And as a sad as I am when it's over, the cherry on top is still when I go to rescue her from her crib:

A big sleepy grin, followed by open arms. She pats my arms and then tries to rub my back and I have forgotten all about the tantrums and the fighting and mess she made of my living room.