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June 27, 2006 I know I've mentioned this before 
I'm a sap. Exhibit A-22: Naptime on Monday. We did the potty (success!). We snuggled on the big bed, onto which wee Frances climbed all by herself--a staggering feat. We went to the bedroom. Frances: I don't want to have a nap, Mummy. Andrea: I know, but you're tired, baby girl. You need a nap. Frances: No! It's not nap time. Andrea: Yes, it is, actually. I placed her in her crib, put her Baby Bear in one arm, the Bunny in the other, and put her blanket over top. I got my book and sat down in the rocking chair. Andrea: Lie down, sweetie, and close your eyes please. She did. A second later one opened a crack to eye me between the slats of her crib. A second after that she was staring at me. Another second and she was grinning and staring, and hot on the heels she was sitting up and laughing. Andrea: Are you my wriggly monkey girl? Frances: No! Andrea: You're not? Where's my wriggly monkey girl? Frances: *thumps her chest* Andrea: I thought so! Now lie down, little monkey. It's time for sleep. She lay down. She rolled on her back. She thumped the slats with her feet. She began to talk to Baby Bear. Andrea: Frances! Whereupon she grinned at me, rolled over, and began to play drums on the crib bars. Andrea: Frances! Close your eyes, baby. For a fraction of a second almost too brief to be seen by the naked eye, the eyes were closed. Then they were open, and she was sitting up and grinning at me. Look at the picture of her smiling face from the other day: now imagine that grin complicated by mischief and complete and certain knowledge of her own adorableness. It is infectious, I tell you, and irresistible. A Frances grinning like that is a Frances who knows she will win. Andrea: What are you doing? Frances: *stands up, grabs the crib bars, and begins to bounce up and down like a rubber ball* I'm jumping! Andrea: *laughs helplessly* Frances: I'm jumping, Mummy! Andrea: Yes, so I see. I went to her and put her back on her tummy. Back went Baby Bear, bunny and blanket. Frances: I'm not sleepy, Mummy! Andrea: Yes, you are. Frances: No, I'm not. Can I stay out of the bed? Andrea: It's nap time. You have to sleep now. Frances: No, it's not! I sat down in the rocking chair, and returned to my book. When I looked up a few seconds later, there was Frances, sitting up and grinning devilishly at me through the bars. I grinned back, and she began to laugh--a full-throated, deep-bellied toddler laugh. The laugh of a baby girl who knows she has everyone twisted around her little finger--and a mighty tight squeeze it is for us all, on such a small little bit of bone and flesh. I laughed back. And what else was there to do? It had been forty-five minutes, and there sat my irrepressible little child, laughing beautifully in her crib. I picked her up. "I'm waking up!" she said. I laughed again. "I guess you are." On my last day of vacation, it seemed worth it to get a few more hours of precious Frances time squeezed in. ~~~~~ Bonus: This morning, as I sat down to eat my cereal, Frances looked at me and said, "I really like your red shirt, Mummy!" Posted by Andrea at June 27, 2006 7:19 AM under Beanie Baby Brags EMAIL this entry (comments fields are below this section) Comments She's too cute! You know, what I did was this: I told the kids they could play quietly in their crib if they really weren't sleepy (they would have a stuffed toy and a book) but that they needed to have some time alone. A lot of the time they would fall alseep once they were alone or just play nicely - sining or talking to themselves. Of course, I really, really needed some "me time" so it was vitally important to me that they go down for a bit. It worked great with Lucas (he was a great napper, and still is. It's hard to believe that Haven gave up naps at 22 months and never looked back. Posted by: Kim at June 27, 2006 7:20 AM
She sounds delightfully, wonderfully willful. Thanks for your comment at my last post - I hope that you took comfort, as I did, in all of the comments that stated a firm commitment to teaching their children to embrace and accept others in their difference. Posted by: Her Bad Mother at June 27, 2006 8:02 AM
Muffin Man also has let go of the nap and now gets "Quiet Time", the first 15 minutes of which has to be alone, in his room, on his bed, with the lights out. After that he can play - quietly - on his bed with the lights on. We try to keep his quiet-time at home on the same schedule as Posh Place's nap-time. That said, I used to play with him at nap-time too. Irrisistable! Posted by: liz at June 27, 2006 10:51 AM
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About Me I'm a type 1 diabetic, witch, feminist, environmentalist, writer, mother, student and print addict in Toronto, Canada. The blog has seen the birth of my daughter, her many medical adventures, my divorce and return to school. The name of the game is upheaval. Subscribe
Change is God (Octavia Butler, Parable Series) "Kindness has converted more sinners than zeal, eloquence or learning." Frederick W. Faber Email Frances! frances AT andreamcdowell DOT com You can email her mother too (that's me):
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The title of this blog was taken from the short story "The Language of Nna Mmoy" by Ursula le Guin in her collection, Changing Planes. I won't tell you why or how, because I want you to read the story and figure it out for yourself.
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