The Toddler and the Bed Wars, pt. 2

If you haven't read Part 1, please scroll down and read it now. This has been a public service announcement. Thank you.

The nap was dead to begin with. As dead as a doornail. This must be completely understood, else nothing that follows will seem wonderous.

The toddler, in very Godzilla-like fashion, roared his independance from the top of his Big Boy Bed and the mother of the toddler quivered and quaked under her own Queen-sized bed. Nothing good could come from this. Afternoons stretched longer without the nap aiding their passage. The living room transplanted itself to Tornado Alley and every evening a category 5 would strike.

The mother had done everything she could think to do. She begged and she pleaded. She yelled and she spanked. She rocked and she cried. But her efforts proved vain. Then she did the only other thing she could think to do: she prayed to her Very Big God for the resurrection of the Nap. She prayed very, very hard.

And from on high, the Very Big God answered. The boy slept. The nap was restored to sanity. The birds (and the mother) sang with all joy and thanksgiving. For four days, the family co-existed in blissful, napful peace. Then the whole cycle began again and the nap threatened to leave for good, rather than be treated in such a disparaging manner.

The mother prayed to her Very Big God again. And this time, He said:
"Mother of the nap-hating toddler, do not be afraid. I am teaching you patience and flexibility from this ordeal. I cannot promise that your son will sleep every day, but I will promise that my Grace shall be sufficient for you whether your son sleeps or no. Trust Me, and I will provide for your needs. This, too, shall pass."

So the mother learned to bend a little more than she thought she was capable of, albeit with much muttering and complaining at times. And the moral of the story, dear reader, is this: do not convert your toddler's crib to a bed unless you have read Charles Dickens and seen Star Wars and are prepared to be a character in both. The End.

What? Eh? Who's hacking into my blog and writing such nonesense?? Nap Wars? What a horrendous idea! We have no such issues here in the Inkwell household. Our son is perfect. This mommy is perfect. If you hear anything to the contrary, you've heard a lie!

Ahem.

As of this writing, you should know that Caleb has napped the last five days in a row. That's a new record for us this last month. =) You should also know that he is starting his speech therapy group tomorrow. *Cheers Loudly* Praise God! This process has taken many months, but tomorrow, hopefully, we will begin to find some answers and get our son talking. I'll be sure to keep you posted; thank you all for your prayers! They've been appreciated!

And now I'd like to leave you with Crazy Cole's Five Senses. The part of the blog where Crazy Cole comes out and shares her five senses:

Sight: I see a computer screen and a messy desk (big surprise there, huh?). Outside, I see wind blown trees and blue patches of sky amidst stormy clouds.

Smell: The salsa my husband's munching on and a Cider Doughnut Yankee Candle. =)

Sound: My son playing in his room (NOT sleeping) and Hubby with Hubby's Best Friend talking geeky computer talk as they play a first person shooter set in some Mayan ruins. Am I geeky too because I understand everything they say?

Also, I have The Biscuit of Zazzamarandabo stuck in my head. If you haven't heard it, you can listen/see it here on YouTube. =)) Gotta love those silly veggies!

Taste: Still tasting a delicious French chocolate truffle from Trader Joes. Oh so good! Jerk Chicken is marinading in the fridge at the moment. I'll be bbq-ing that for dinner if the weather cooperates. Thank you Natalie for the recipe, which can be found here.

Touch: The smooth plastic of keys under my fingers as I type this. Cool air coming in from an open window.

Well, that's it for now. Happy Sunday, ya'll!