In the last week, my almost-two-year-old son has dropped his morning nap (without adding any additional afternoon or nighttime sleep, mind you) and learned to open doorknobs. That effectively turns any semblance of normalcy around here on its head, thank you very much. And so I bid farewell to our friend, the morning nap, with a heartfelt tribute....
Oh, Morning Nap, how I need you desperately and loathe you in the same breath! That blessed hour of near-peace that always gets in the way of any possible outing. I mourn your loss with a sigh of relief. If only you had magically transplanted yourself next door to Afternoon Nap. Instead you ran off for greener pastures and left me with a whiny leech completely incapable of entertaining himself for two minutes. But I'm not bitter. We're moving on, whole mornings available for wandering. This is better. Right? Oh, Mourning Nap!
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