Tuesday, December 2, 2014

An open letter to my daughter's naptime

Dear Emma's nap time,

    I hope you remember me.  It's been days now since we've encountered each other, and quite honestly I miss you more than I can express.  I'm composing this letter to you against a recurring symphony of "MAMA!!!"'s in ascending and descending tones coming from the other room, a painful reminder of our separation.

   Side-note: the symphony took a brief pause when a small glowing technological entertainment device was presented to the conductor by a deranged audience member with unwashed hair and cozy pants as she attempted to hide what could be considered an "unhealthy" piece of leftover pumpkin pie in her right cheek...

  Back to us.  I guess three and a half years is a pretty good run.  We were good for each other.  I gave you an angelic unconscious child covered in love and peace and a "Frozen" quilt from Target's Black Friday Sale.  And you gave me the most wonderful gift of all.

  Alone time.

   Maybe I took you for granted.  Maybe all good things must come to an end.  Maybe my Pinterest boards were getting too full of my virtual home organization, unattempted kid crafts, and poorly imitated gluten free, dairy free baked goods.  Maybe sound proofing the inside of a child's room isn't as expensive as I imagine.  Maybe I shouldn't have eaten the entirety of the leftover pumpkin pie.

  Regardless, I'm thankful for what we had together.  And I'm not above shamelessly begging you to come back to me.  Until you decide, I will be curled up in a corner somewhere drinking the coffee that I promised myself to give up for the month of December and pinning "Quiet Time Activities for Tiny Humans" on Pinterest.

  Also, no pressure, but the whole title of my blog basically banks on your presence in my life.

   I will attempt yet again to meet you at my home tomorrow afternoon at approximately 1:45pm.  I'll come bearing coffee and chocolate.