Four o'clock and all is ... well, give or take a few minutes, it has become the Crying Hour around here. The hour during which I cry - sometimes inside, sometimes hiding behind a tissue, sometimes loudly while walking from room to room.
Marin and Silje are no longer napping. At all. Unless, of course, they fall asleep in the car and I can't reach them to pinch them awake.
1:00 now comes and goes as if it was part of the rest of the day, and no longer a part of that peaceful Me-Time of day. I don't get to take my time over my lunch. I don't get to puruse my email. I don't get to load the washing machine without a half-pint sized twit trying to reach in and throw it all back out. No more reading in the stillness. I don't get to nap if I desperately need it.
See? Pity Party.
Because by 4:00 in the afternoon Marin and Silje are at the end of their sleepless endurance and are whining and fussing and hungry and
tired because they just can't make it a whole day without sleeping.
But if they
do ever sleep - even for just 30 minutes - they whine, fuss and cry when bedtime comes around. And if I'm ever going to get Me-Time it needs to be after their bedtime. When they are finally down for the night and there is little chance of them waking up after 2 hours to interupt my chores or rest.
But while I would rather have a more peaceful bedtime, I'm having a hard time making it through the day without
their nap.
Sigh.This wasn't a fun transition when Ailey kicked naps at 2 1/2-years-old either. But at least she was willing and able to sit in her room for an hour of Quiet Time. That's been a no-go with Marin and Silje thus far.
So maybe I should just forget the idea of Quiet Time and start celebrating the Pity Party! Let's see, I'll need streamers and balloons, M&Ms and strawberry punch (maybe a double-tall-iced-mocha for me), some rowdy music and a pinata. Want to join me?