Napping

I've never been a big fan of naps. When Jeremy & I first got married (read: all of our marriage), he had to basically force me to nap. For the first couple of years I would get irritated with my recreational napping husband who would gladly waste a perfectly good day napping on the couch. I suppose it's part of my go, go, go nature to not want to slow down and "miss out" by having to take a nap. Even though my attitude about napping has gotten better, I'm still not a recreational napper. I don't take naps just for the fun of it. I take naps because if I don't, my capacity for Holiness flies out the window and it is all I can do to be polite let alone nice.

That being said, if I DO take a nap, I want to be able to sleep until I wake myself up. This makes Sundays the absolute BEST time for naps--I don't have to wake myself up before Hannah gets up because when she wakes up, Jeremy takes care of her. (Minimum nap time is always 45 minutes, with 1.5 hours being optimal.) This pregnancy has really put me in bed once a day--a situation I'm ready to be finished with--even with a good night's sleep. For various reasons, I got less than six hours of sleep for the past two nights, so I was actually thrilled with the potential to not only catch up on sleep but to not have to worry about Hannah. Let's introduce the Air Force into this equation. Just thirty minutes into what had the potential for a 2.5 hour nap, Jeremy gets recalled for the exercise. So, I get a kiss on the cheek to wake me up and tell me that he is leaving for the next four plus hours (aka I'll be home after Hannah goes to bed) and that Hannah is awake in her crib. So, here I am. By myself with a cranky child and the potential for a health-restoring nap through out the window. Go Air Force.