Naps Are Overrated

by Andi Franklin
Originally Published: 

He has begun the dance. The snake-in-a-woven-basket dance where he appears boneless as he wiggles his sleepy limbs around. I try my best snake charming moves, but somehow he defeats me. So I decide to take him to the store, knowing that by the time we get back in the car for the drive home he will conk out. My plan is successful, and I delicately remove his car seat and begin to creep to the front door. Suddenly, our neighbor pulls his car up next to me and rolls down his window.

I turn the car seat so he can see the baby sleeping and gesture frantically.

He then shouts, “He’s asleep, eh?!”

Annnd the baby wakes up.

“Oh look! He’s awake!”

Do you want to sit here and talk to me for ten minutes now?

I don’t. I really, really don’t.

Once the neighbor leaves, I notice that my baby’s eyes are starting to droop closed again.


Put the keys in the door, open slowly, and creeeeeeaaaaakkkk!

He moves but his eyes remain closed. I’ve got to remember to get some WD40 for that damn door.

Oh. Shit. I forgot to put the dogs outside before I left.

Furry beasts come running into the living room screaming at the top of their lungs. I try to quiet them.

Try explain to them that the baby is sleepy and they need to calm down and silence themselves. But in unison they both reply with an I-don’t-give-a-shit howl.

By now my son’s eyes are wide open and he’s watching the whole thing. I’ve got to act quickly, so I pull him out of his car seat to cuddle him and kick the dogs outside.

His head nestles into my shoulder and he starts to doze off again as I rock him back and fourth.

But suddenly, there is a violent knock on the door.

He pops up and I swing the creaky door open in a rage.

The UPS driver is already back in his truck. My package did not require a signature, but he ding-dong ditched anyway.

At this point I know it’s going to take more than some swaying and a lullaby, so I plop down on the couch and breastfeed.

After about 10 minutes of eating, he is back in dreamland. I prop up my feet, lean my head back, and close my eyes. Maybe I’ll take one too; Lord knows I need it.

I feel my body relaxing more and more with each breath. The weight of the day lifts off my eyes and I begin to drift.

We both jump at the terrifying Michael Myers soundtrack suddenly coming from outside.

I then realize that it’s not a masked murderer in my front yard with a chainsaw, but rather, the gardeners.

My son looks me in the eyes and deviously smirks as he decides whether or not we will be going back to sleep.

With a big thumbs down, he declares that his 10 minute nap gave him the energy of one hundred men and daytime sleep becomes a dream of the past for me.

I cry a little on the inside, make myself an iced coffee, and pull it together.

Naps are overrated anyway. We’ll try again tomorrow.

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