I love naptime. I'm a firm believer for Levi and myself on days I allow myself the pleasure. Let me tell you this though: Levi hates naptime. Well, at least he used to. I'm now a firm believer in training your child to nap. Levi used to take 5-20 minute naps throughout the day. Which meant by the time Andrew got home from work Levi was a cranky pants and neither one of us wanted anything to do with him. So, because I thought this was incredibly unfair and unecessary that the only time Andrew saw his son during the week that he was a crabby pants, I decided (after consulting numerous other Mommas and a few chosen books) that we were going to learn to take an afternoon nap. So, I dedicated two weeks to be home in the afternoon for most of it, and we set out to take a nap. Well, I won't go into the gory details but after many tears, crying, general malcontent (and I haven't even talked about Levi! just kidding) Levi now takes a good 1 1/2-3 hour nap. Usually about 2 hours and he usually wakes up after an hour and has to go back to sleep, but overall, he knows that after lunch comes the crib and naptime. He doesn't go to sleep right away, he usually rolls around and talks to himself and plays with the elephant, but eventually, he goes to sleep without too many tears. Now, we have bad days and good days. But overall, Levi knows that crying in his crib in the afternoon gets him a firm "NO" and he doesn't get rescued. So he sleeps. And when Daddy gets home, we're all much happier. Now, I don't stay home every afternoon just to make him nap. He must fit into our world, not the other way around. But he still sleeps better when we're out in the afternoon because it's naptime. I know this may not work for everyone, and I don't know what another baby would bring, but I like to know that discipline works for this baby at least.
Now, as to the new look of my blog, I spent last week up at my parents' house. While there I managed to go see some friends and also drop by the Public Library where I used to work. Oh, how I miss working with books. A library is one of my favorite places to be. It's full of order, organization, and stories. What more could a gal like me ask for? I loved that job, it was one of my favorites. So in honor of shelves of books and stories, I'm using this rather busy background.
The trip to my parents was a planned trip, but became even more important after my Dad crushed 3 fingers in the round hay-baler. He's okay. He had surgery, lost part of one finger, and will be in pain and laid up for a while but by the grace of God he's alive and on the mend. It was an interesting week, and I'm glad Levi and I were there to distract Grandpa as much as possible. It was the longest trip I've taken with Levi without Andrew along. It was interesting and I missed my husband A LOT. I came back Friday in time for a swell 25th birthday party put on by my husband. And then, on Saturday, as I was at the Y punching in my age on the elliptical, it hit me, I'm 25. I'm now closer to 30 than 20. I feel rather old. (All of you that are eh hem, older shall we say, I know, 25 isn't old, but come on, humor me for a minute will you?) I feel like an old adult for the first time. 21 means you can drink. 22 means you're probably out of college. 23 means you're either delaying the future in grad school or trying to be an adult. 24 means you're probably out of grad school and really must grow up now. 25 means, well you've faced the music and now everyone knows you're an adult. For me, anything after 20 meant I was married and trying to become the adult I was. 25, well, that brings not only the marriage but the baby and the reality that I am finite and depraved. I'm going to get old and die. When Levi graduates I shall be in my 40's and viewed as middle-age. And in my soul I believe I shall still feel 19.
But, I must also say that my husband being older than me, he hits all the milestones before me. He makes 30 look good, so it's not so scary.
But still, I'm 25. Quarter of a Century. When Levi's 25 I'll be 50. Ugh good grief. enough.
I should also note that waiting for me when I got home was a dozen roses. That was a good birthday surprise. And yes, they were from my husband.
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