It was unseasonably warm for the middle of January. Normally, we wouldn’t have even gotten to go to the park at all during time in the year. Today, however, we wore just a hoody over our sweaters and played for hours on end. Our lungs hadn’t been this full of fresh, crisp air in months! I was certain that after a bowl full of chicken and noodles and a grilled cheese sandwich, I would have no problem at all getting my precious daughter down for her nap.
At three years old, she had all but given them up. I, however, still needed them. It’s not that I slept, but I rested. And I accomplished “mommy” things and read grown-up books that didn’t rhyme or have talking animals. It was my hour that refreshed me for the long afternoon before Daddy could come home and take over some of the non-stop energy that was our daughter.
Recently, though, naptime was a struggle. She’d be in and out of her bed dozens of times. She would change the music on her radio. She would sneak into the bathroom and play. It was almost more trouble than it was worth. Almost.
On this particular day, though, I just knew she’d be out – easy breezy like the soft, southern winds that followed us home from the park.
I tucked her in tight and turned out her lights. I shut her door and stood in the hall ready to nab the little escape artist when she made her move as she had so moved every day for the past three weeks. But she was quiet and still. I didn’t chance peeking in the door and stirring her from the unusual silence the emanated from her room, so I tiptoed down the hallway and grabbed my library book and a blanket as I headed out the door. The day was too pretty to be curled up in a chair inside.
I spread my blanket and propped my head up with my left arm. I remember I read a few pages… I couldn’t tell you now what was on those pages. It seemed like only minutes had passed when I was started awake to the sound of approaching sirens.
I blinked my eyes trying to remember where I was and what I was doing. I threw the blanket off of me and instinctively scrambled for the door. I had no idea how long I’d been outside asleep, but I knew my precious baby girl was inside and I needed to get her.
My feet tangled in the blanket and stumbled. The urgency to get to my daughter became overwhelming as the sirens became closer and my feet remained entangled; my panic disabled me so that I almost didn’t hear the quiet, small voice say, “Are you OK, Momma?” I turned my head to the left and saw her. With her sleepy eyes sparkling at her mischievous ventures, I saw the little pixie laying on the blanket, snuggled close to where I had just been.
She had escaped after all, and without my knowing it, she had enjoyed an afternoon nap under blue skies with her momma. I kissed her forehead as the sirens came to a stop a few blocks away, and we snuggled in for some more mid-winter snoozing.