Sharing a bedroom with the youngest member of our family has led to certain complications when I encounter those oh-so-rare possibilities for an afternoon nap for myself.
A venture of this kind poses a few risks. The first obstacle is the actual turning of the door knob. Sweet Cara has proven that she can sleep soundly through near-tornado force winds and thunder. The sound of the door opening is another matter altogether. The next obstacle comes when I actually climb onto the bed. Sheets rustling may as well be a clanging cymbal. Third, line of vision. There is a chance that Cara may wake up enough to roll over and go back to sleep. Should she see the ever-desirable mama laying there right in sight, the game is up.
Last Thursday I thought conditions were right.
After worrying for several minutes over logistics, I took a deep breath outside my bedroom door before gently turning the nob to attempt the improbable. Cara started as the doorknob turned, but soon became still again. I crept slowly further into the room and climbed into bed on the far side away from the crib, arranging pillows around me so that a body pillow could act as a wall to block the baby’s vision.
No sooner had I laid my head on the pillow than Cara’s head jerked up and scanned the room with laser vision. Satisfied that nothing was amiss, she turned and settled back into sleep with her face facing my bed. Without moving, I slept uncomfortably a few minutes until she began shifting again and turning her head toward the wall.
The risk in this nap experiment was clearly not worth the reward.
Gingerly I crept down from the bed and silently headed toward the door. I should have been home free.
Suddenly Cara jerked awake!
I dropped to the floor and paused with bated breath, heart racing.
Cara grew still again and I scurried toward the door and gently slipped out.
I always knew that motherhood would challenge me to abandon my selfishness. I never expected that motherhood would give me opportunities to develop sweet ninja skills.