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Why It Must be Naptime!

I can’t keep the grandparents away.  Even after birthing what they considered to be an “extra kid” (as though there is a Recommended Daily Allowance of two children) they continued, hot and heavy, with the visiting.  Their stays became longer, the meals more drawn out, and I noticed they hung out.  HANG.  This was never in my husband’s family’s repertoire before but is a learned behavior that they’ve impressively employed as of late.  With just one exception.  Whenever our youngest child, of nap-time and non-speaking age, gets fussy (and by fussy I mean protesting something or other, or refusing to eat one food over another, or doing anything that mildly resembles a child developing preferences of his own and expressing them) Nana and Papa freak and shout out: “Must be time for a nap!”  They physically hand me my children as though he should return to the conveyor belt.

After a recent vacation shook things up for me, I returned home deprogrammed and less numb than before I’d left.  With eye-springing clarity I noticed that Nana and Papa were once again trying to put my baby to sleep.  But he’s only stirring on the couch!  He doesn’t take naps anymore, I informed the grandparents, removing him from them by the armpits.  But he seems tired, they insisted, confused.  “Are you sure he shouldn’t be put to sleep?”  (This, another prize expression that we must be ensure to ban from the English language when we get the opportunity.)  Just then, my husband sauntered into the room, having heard our son’s cries and whines.  Thank god!  Father has finally come to check in on what’s wrong.

“Does the baby need to be put down?”

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