In Praise of Naps

I had a nap with MonkeyBoy this afternoon, and I highly recommend the experience. It doesn't have to be MonkeyBoy in particular, or even your own child - any drowsy toddler will do*. Borrow one from a friend if you have to, but try the nap experience at least once in your life.

I've always loved afternoon naps (at least, since my mother stopped making me take them when I was a tyke). There's something kind of decadent about going back to bed midday, releasing yourself from the demands of the world, letting events pass you by for an hour or two. Today's nap was more of a necessity - I'm still feeling fairly wretched, although I'm cautiously optimistic that I'm finally on the mend - but instead of wrestling the wee lad into his own bed, I invited him to share mine. Once we got the requisite "But I don't need a nap" protestations out of the way, he fell asleep very quickly, snuggled up against my side with his head on my shoulder, one arm across my neck. I fell asleep with my cheek against his hair.

When I woke up, I had turned on my side, and he was nestled up against my back, curled up like a kitten. At night, I curl up against Dean in the same way.

There's something very primal, I think, about sleeping with someone. Actually sleeping with someone, letting yourself be completely vulnerable, trusting them with your subconscious self. I love it, hate being in a bed by myself. When Dean's away, I often let Chickadee sleep with me (MonkeyBoy is a hideously restless sleeper at night - naps are OK, but after 8pm he roams the bed like a marauding army, and he has a deep subconscious dislike of blankets). She, at least, can be trusted to stay on her own pillow, and leave the covers where they belong.

*I don't recommend trying to nap with a bright-eyed munchkin. They're remarkably squirmy creatures, and you'll only get an elbow to the head or a knee to the throat for your troubles.