the sleep chronicles, part 2: meet the nap nazi

My friend Meryl sent me this charming piece of graphic goodness when we were discussing the trials and tribulations of naptime. We have no clue what the words say, or where this illustration originated from (possibly the KGB museum somewhere in Europe?), but I think the scowling matriarch is a pretty accurate depiction of most moms of small children. SILENCE! SLEEP NOW OR RISK THE WRATH OF THE NAP NAZI! I need to wallpaper my front door in this handy little message, to prevent the UPS and FedEx men from ringing the dreaded doorbell every time they leave a package. And while I'm at it, I'll go ahead and deposit this friendly little reminder on all my neighbor's doors too, because EVERY TIME one of my neighbors has friends over/pulls up in the driveway/talks outside on the cell phone, my fierce guard-dog feels the need to bark his head off and let me know there is someone, somewhere in the immediate vicinity. And this usually occurs riiiiiight after I've finally gotten sweet little Petunia to go to sleep. (Where's that shock collar when you need it?....) I'm thinking the nap nazi will become a permanent fixture in our household. Much the same way talks of Santa are used to bribe inspire children to behave around Christmas time, I think threats of a visit from the nap nazi might be quite useful in persuading obstinate children to hit the sack at naptime. I've seen firsthand what happens when little darling doesn't get a good nap, and it ain't pretty. I learned my lesson the hard way last Friday, when we had guests over for dinner and she was in all her fussing glory because she didn't take a good nap that afternoon. Point well taken. We will now adhere to the nap schedule with militarian diligence.


The de-swaddling has indeed been a painstakingly slow process, fraught with flailing limbs and scratched-up noses and middle-of-the-night wakings. We quit using the miracle blanket and switched to a zippered sleep sack so we could wean her one arm at a time. Last week there were a few rough nights, but by the end of the week she was somewhat accustomed to having one arm free. So then we attempted to free the other arm. Double the flailing. Double the sharp little baby nails scratching her face (despite my attempt to prevent this with the aid of mittens.) Double the amount of mid-sleep wakings that require her to put herself back to sleep. It is SOOOO tempting to just put her back in the old miracle blanket swaddle in the hopes of getting a really good night's sleep, or a really good 3 hour mid-day nap, but I guess this is our first tough love parenting trial. We must stay strong. We must resist temptation and stay the course and free all her limbs!

No matter what happens at night, she's still a happy girl in the morning!

And in other news, I think she's starting to resemble me a bit more now. Ever since she was born, people have always taken one look at her and exclaimed 'she's the spitting image of her daddy!' And I agreed. But her appearance is changing every day and now I'm starting to see a bit more of me in her. Then when I compared her to pictures of Bill and I at the same age, I can definitely see that she has some of me in her! I've decided she has my hair and mouth for sure. She has Bill's eye shape, but my eyelashes, and both of our hazel eyes. The chunky cheeks (which are getting chunkier every day!) came from me. Her nose is a nice combination of both of us...not quite my nose, but not quite the distinctive Renton nose either. I can't wait to see what she looks like at one year of age! 

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