Samantha has not taken an afternoon nap for me since Wednesday, March 24.
If you’re counting, that’s 2 weeks. It might have been longer than that, but I know at least since that day. (In reality, consistent naps haven’t occurred since we got rid of the crib, which was Sunday, March 14.)
Since then, we’ve had much kicking, screaming, hitting, gnashing of teeth, timeouts, spankings, you name it. Life at our house is not pretty. It all begins at pick-up time at the babysitter’s house and goes way downhill from there. FAST. The thing is, she’ll take a nap with the babysitter, Brian, Nana, or as it seems, anyone but me. Actually, it seems she’ll do anything for anyone except me. Either she knows that life is about to change and she’s taking it out on me, or she knows that I’m already stressed to the max so she’s going to take it out on me.
The pediatrician once told me that “strong-willed children make great leaders as adults.” I hope I can make it that far.
EDIT (4/7/10): She took a nap yesterday!! Hallelujah! After 1.5 hours of waging war, I decided to leave her door open. Wide open. I don’t know if that did the trick, but it seemed to help.