A moment to myself…what is that? Is there time to escape to a tropical island? Nope. Is there time to eat a sandwich? Just barely. Thus is the life of a mom with a serial cat napper. It’s rare that my daughter will nap longer than 45 minutes. This makes it virtually impossible to get anything done around the house. Everything is always half-finished. This drives me insane! I don’t claim to be a June Cleaver or Martha Stewart (that’s my mother) but I like to keep a clean, organized space.
Since becoming a mummy I’ve had to say sayonara to the days of a neat and tidy home. I get twenty minutes to straighten up what was left undone from the previous nap and about a whole 90 seconds for “me time.” It seems she has a sensor that goes off when my butt hits the couch and I prop up my feet. As soon as I’m good and relaxed–pop–eyeballs! I can’t imagine how anyone with more than one child gets anything done. That’s got to be the reason why school was invented. Get these kids out of the house so Mummy can think straight, and while you’re at it, teach ’em something.
On the odd occasion she naps longer than 45 minutes, I don’t know what to do with myself. Plenty of time to do all my daily chores and thirty minutes to enjoy whatever show is on Bravo (even though I’ve probably already watched it twice already.) Oh happy day!
Is it bad to admit that sometimes I look forward to naptime? Well…I just did. I wish, as moms, we wouldn’t put these crazy impossible standards on ourselves. We shouldn’t feel guilty for indulging in a little Mummy time. That is what keeps us sane, right? That’s what the handbook said, anyway.