Nap Time and a Battle of Wills

 Tomorrow morning, October the first, Kaitlin goes back to work for the first time since Silas was born. Her daycare provider isn’t available until November the first. Lucky for her she has two recently retired parents who are thrilled to step in for the next 30 days. 

Usually my main job as a “caregiver” is running errands for the real caregiver—Pam. I have managed to add, “guitar player” to my resume of skills since it seems to distract him from various fits of fractiousness. I am also quite adept at laying on the floor and playing with him, making him laugh and sharing advice on proper pooping technique. But yesterday I was given a real caregiver task—putting him down for a nap.

Technically, the “putting him down” part isn’t accurate. Around here we prefer what is referred to in modern baby care parlance as contact napping, ie we hold him as he sleeps instead of putting him in a crib. At this point I should mention how little your opinions on the advisability of contact napping mean to me. I can practically hear some of you muttering—he’s going to spoil that boy. My response to this is—mind your own business. If any of you had a grandson this beautiful you wouldn’t plop him in a crib either.

So, yesterday my big moment came around 11:50 when Pam handed Silas to me and left me alone in his nursery with these instructions, “He needs to sleep for about and hour and forty-five minutes. He will want to wake up every thirty minutes or so, but don’t let him. Good luck!”

For the first ten minutes, Silas had no interest whatsoever in sleeping, despite the fact that he was very tired. He squirmed. He cried. He squirmed while crying. He got red in the face from squirming and crying. I soldiered on, determined to triumph. I whispered. I soothed. I patted his bottom. I stroked his nose…all the tricks Kaitlin had taught me. At the end of this ten minute battle of wills, Silas’ eyes finally drifted shut and he fell asleep in my arms. I sat down in the rocking/rotating chair by the window of the nursery and watched him sleeping. This is one of the few things I recall from when my own children were this age. I remember how soothing it was—for me—to watch them sleep. Nothing has changed.

As predictable as the tides, at the thirty minute mark his eyes popped wide open. He looked up at me and a huge smile ran across his face. My heart melted…but I wasn’t about to go for this head fake. I had been warned that every thirty minutes he would want to wake up and I had been given specific instructions NOT to let this happen. So, once he started again with the whole squirming and crying bit, I stood up and tried the old walk while bouncing up and down thing. As most of you know, this parenting technique has been employed by every parent since the Bronze Age and for good reason—it works. The down side of the bounce/walk strategy is that it doesn’t agree with my 67 year old back. After a minute or so I could feel the beginnings of a spasm coming on, so I abruptly abandoned the bounce/walk for the trusty 180 degree spin move, whereby you twist at the waste from side to side in a slow rhythmic motion. As soon as I began doing this his little eyelids began to flutter. I had hit on a winning strategy. All I had to do was continue this for another couple of minutes and he would be out like a light!

But..there was a problem.

I am 67.

To my great embarrassment and frustration, I discovered that the 180 degree spin move was making me dizzy. There was the very real possibility that I might eventually pass out—which I don’t have to tell you all would NOT be optimum. So, I improvised. I decided to try widening my stance. Luckily for me I was in a dark room and there were no other people there to see my performance. Try to imagine how awkward and dorky a man would look if he was holding a baby while spinning 180 degrees at the waist with his feet now three feet apart and his legs bent slightly at the knees! I probably looked like a Yoga Pose gone terribly wrong. However, the good news is, the dizziness went away and soon Silas was once again sound asleep.

An hour and forty-five minutes after I started, the little guy started to wake up, my mission successfully completed. I handed him to his mother, feeling pretty good about myself. Then I attempted to rise up out of the rocking/rotating chair…

There is a price to be paid for this contact napping business when you’re my age. On the one hand there’s the pure joy you feel watching this beautiful, tiny human being sleeping in your arms. All the problems of this world melt away. But…when it’s over and you stand up your back feels like you’ve just finished walking ten miles carrying a 25 pound backpack.

Small price to pay for this…