The Big One takes on nap avoidance like a job. A career. A mission. A mission to drive me insane. AND IT IS WORKING.
The Big One has always been an expert nap avoider. As a little guy, he would attempt to cute his way past The Window, cooing and gurgling like a tiny cherub. As he got older, he would ask for one more book, one more song or one more snuggle. Still cute. As he entered toddlerhood, he became trickier, begging for a drink of water, claiming he had to go potty, assuring me he JUST. WASN'T. TIRED. But usually, with enough patience on my part, he would fall asleep and take the nap we both desperately needed.
But now. Oh, now. Now, he's spiteful. Now he's calculated, conniving, and... a genius, really. Because now, he does everything he can think of to wake the Little One up. His sweet little brother who is happily snoozing away in the closet just a few feet from him. And it makes me completely, thoroughly, murderously angry.
(Have I mentioned the Little One naps and sometimes sleeps part of the night in our master closet? He does. I'm sure that won't cause any issues down the road. Bygones.)
The Big One has developed this terrible, horrible, AWFUL sound- a godawful hoot- that carries from here to Shanghai (hello friends in China!! You've heard it, haven't you). It is possibly the most irritating sound known to human kind and he can keep it up for hours. HOURS, oh my hell on earth. And he has figured out that, apart from making me insane, the sound will likely wake his peacefully sleeping brother... thereby ending nap-time.
You guys, he is brilliant. Or evil. An evil genius, perhaps? Shit. My kid is an evil genius. What do I do about that, exactly? Channel it? Redirect it? Shave his head, get him some dark glasses, and prepare to be proud of his intelligence... however it rears it's (potentially ugly) head?
Ugh. I miss nap. I NEED nap. He needs nap. Sonofabitch.