Sophie tried to nap today, really, she did. She’d chit chat with her dolls and stuffed animals, flip through her favorite-book-of-the-moment, Green as a Bean, and then curl up in a ball, on her stomach, with her little bottom high up in the air. She’d stay in that position for a few minutes, lose patience and repeat the cycle all over again.
After about an hour, though, she was done. Still, I left her alone hoping, hoping she’d sleep just a little—nights can be difficult on no-nap days. Finally, I couldn’t bear to hear “Mama, mama, mama! Mommy! MAMA! Mommy, Mommy, Mommy! Mama? Maaammmaaa!” any more. So I went upstairs.
This was our conversation:
Sophie: “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!”
Me: “Yes, Sophie.”
Sophie: “I can’t go to sleep.”
Me: “Why?”
Sophie: “I have a booger.”
“There never was a child so lovely but that his mother was glad to get him to sleep.” —Ralph Waldo Emerson
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