What is it with Sundays?!?

So, I have to admit I am not into the "I should sit down and blog" concept yet. Our camera has not had batteries in it for two weeks now - and I always seem to forget to pick them up at the store. We have had MANY photo opportunities lately...all that I have missed.

Last weekend we went to the first Cyclone game I have been to since I graduated. Actually, we never even made it to the game...or tailgating...BUT Anna was sporting her adorable new red crochet hat with bright yellow flower and Max had his ISOooo Foofball outfit on the entire day.
No pictures.

Max had his second birthday party two weeks ago. With an adorable train cake made by Grandma Renea. And so many favorite presents from friends and family.
No pictures. (at least not from me...I still need the Grandma's pics)

Yesterday, Grandma Jean and Grandpa Ron brought Max an amazing "just-his-size" piano. Max LOVES playing. Plus, its hilarious how he maneuvers himself to sit on the bench.
No pictures.

Also yesterday we got to show both sets of Grandparents Max's infatuation with his Sesame Street DVD and letters/numbers. He sings the alphabet song along with the movie. Then counts with Count to 18. It's his new favorite number.
No video.

So, is anyone going to yell at me about this?!? I feel like I'm an awful mother. Who does this?


Anyway, getting back to my post title. Max has always taken amazing naps. They are usually 2-3 hours in length and no matter the time of day, he'll still go to bed by 9:00pm. That is...until SUNDAY comes.

I've always enjoyed by Sunday afternoon naps. Nick can tell you that in our four years of marriage, on Sundays you can expect to find me on the couch with an IPTV home improvement show on mute. For some reason, I love it. I cherish it. Sunday naps are something I do.

Once again today...and the last SEVERAL months...Max decided to not take a nap. If Max were here, he'd tell you that we try to take naps on Sundays. Boy, do we try!

Picture a normal nap time ritual: I rock him with his sippy cup of milk (yes, I still do this to my two year old) singing his favorite songs. Max listens and when he is ready, hands his sippy cup over to me and flips over on my chest, head on shoulder. That's my signal, he's ready for nap time. Into his bed, close the door. Whoo!

Picture a Sunday nap time ritual: I rock him with his sippy cup of milk, singing his favorite songs. Max listens and when he seems to be ready, hands me his sippy cup and flips over on my chest, head on shoulder.

Then I hear it. Him whispering in my ear ever so lightly, "Mommy...mommy....mommy." Then I feel it. His hips start wiggling side to side. His head moves from my shoulder to in front of my face. I feel him bring his toddler fingers closer to my face. He starts playing with my lips. If I am still singing at this time, he tries the risky move of touching my teeth. He plays with my hair. He pinches my cheeks. He touches his nose to my nose. All the while, I am holding him close with my eyes closed (trying to imitate sleep) and thinking...

WHY MAX? WHY SUNDAYS?

By this time, my grip has lessened a bit so now he is touching the curtains behind the chair. He starts arching his back over and over again while giggling. He starts listing of numbers 1-12. I start telling him in my ultra-calm voice "Max...Daddy's sleeping. Anna's sleeping...Grandma's sleeping." To which he replies in his excited voice, "Grandpa's sleeping!! Baby's Sleeping!! MAX IS SLEEPING!!"

Seriously, this is exactly what happens every Sunday. And again happened today. This is when I give up. I put him in his bed with the light off so he can at least have a somewhat "calm time." Who am I kidding...I put him in his bed so I can have a "calm time." For a good hour, I can hear him numbering off numbers or rambling through parts of the alphabet or shouting "mommy...train...big truck...baby...cow-moo..."

So, no pictures. No video of this quite comical Sunday afternoon ritual. But I do have a blog now so that I can read it years from now and laugh at how frustrated I was on Sunday afternoons with NO NAP.

Happy Sunday Sleeping,
Liz