Guilt.

Guilt. There are so many directions I could go with guilt: it affects so many different facets of my life (mom guilt, career guilt, wife guilt) but it’s such an abstract concept that mainly exists in my head. meaning it only affects me. Meaning decisions I make are based on some idea of what I’m supposed to be doing rather than what I want to be doing. Or what I should be doing. In other words, it is time to release some guilt.

I doubt this will be my only post contending with guilt in my life. But I’m going to start with something seemingly small and insignificant: the guilt I have about napping with my kids. 

There I said it. 

I. Nap. With. My. Kids.

Why do I feel guilty about this? Because we live in a society that says GO! DO! PRODUCE! ACHIEVE! You can’t do that while you’re sleeping so don’t! Sleep is for the weak! Drink caffeine!

But guess what? I’m human. I get tired. And so do my kids. I wake up early most mornings and workout before I get the kids ready and out the door. Most mornings I put on my more miles – literally and mentally – than I ever did before having kids.

So by the time lunchtime rolls around and I’ve battled my three-year-old to eat something besides a cracker (“Mooommm, you gave me the wrong kind of cheese”), I’m ready for a break. I’m tired of the battles. I’m tired of missing a warm meal to wipe a poopy bottom.  I’m just plain old tired.

So when nap time rolls around, I gather some books, bring my son into our room, read some stories, cuddle, and shut my eyes. Most days I doze for 20 minutes before I wake up and he is out cold. I then sneak out of bed and GO! DO! PRODUCE! ACHIEVE!  But other days, when I’m sick or when I’ve been up all night with the kids, I sleep for an hour. No shame.

I really like to carve out this time when my kindergartner is home and she wants to “rest” as well. When she’s sick, or over Christmas break, or even this past week when we had an “ice day” off of school, I relish the extra snuggle time with my oldest child. She loves school and I love that she is in school, but my mama heart is still having a hard time comprehending that she is “in school.” Like for the next 13 years. And my time with her is now limited to weekends and summers until she goes to college. Excuse me while I go sob. *sobs*

On those days, I climb right in the middle of the bed and read the stories each picks out in the impenetrable cocoon we’ve created. We hold each other tight as our bodies drift off to sleep, warm and comforting against the cold Minnesota air. I will gladly let the lunch dishes sit in the sink, or the laundry wrinkle to feel their warm, small bodies snuggled against mine. They still feel that attraction, like a magnet, to their mama. I want to snuggle them and make them feel safe, warm and loved for as long as I can. Till my magnetic influence on them wanes and I find myself chasing after them as their compasses point away from me to new destinations.  

I’m normally too embarrassed to tell anyone this. For most people and parents I know, a nap is a luxury they do not have. I don’t even admit it to my husband most days.

But if it’s one thing I’ve learned in six (SIX????!!!!) years of parenting, it is that time goes by so quickly. I’ve already started feeling guilt (see, all the guilt) about the lack of time I spent with my daughter before she started kindergarten.

And so, I will nap. I will nap with my son. I will nap with both of my kids. That time together is precious time and we all wake up happier humans. This, in turn, makes our waking time better, too. Life is too short to feel guilty about something that brings happiness to our lives.

And so, I am releasing the guilt about napping with my kids. 

This photo was actually from last year when we all had the plague.
I love how imperfect this photo is: Christmas pajamas in March. Crazy hair. No makeup.
But if anything was going to make us feel better, it was a nap with each other.