The Dreaded Two-Hour Power Nap

It always seems like a good idea at the time. Let the six year-old fall asleep in the back of the car on the way home from school. Ahh, sweet silence!

Not silence, exactly; it's not ever really silent when you've got two kids. However there's a different tone to an eight year-old's discourse. They're already starting to form an idea of what it means to be sophisticated or cool, and it doesn't usually involve speaking at high decibel levels. If he's excited enough about something, Diego, the 8 year-old, will speak quickly, without taking a breath; still, it's not the same intense volume at which Jackson speaks when he's excited.

It's not just about loudness, either. There's a manic intensity that Jackson has that Diego is too cool to possess. Again, I'm not sure if this is a function of age, personality or both. Diego has become a bit more emotionally predictable now that he's a little older, so there's hope. I guess.

The saying "Borrowing from Peter to pay Paul" comes to mind. He just looks so sweet, so peaceful, with his eyes closed, breathing gently, his mouth slightly agape. I lift him out of the car, whispering "Come to Daddy," as he grabs a hold around my neck. Placing him gently on the bed, I tiptoe out into the rest of the house, and wonder how long he'll be down. I know there's a good chance I may regret this, yet I do it, for the short-term gains.

Diego and I go out and run a couple of errands, and when we get home, at around 8, I look around. No Jackson. I look at Jeanette and can feel the expression of dread come over my face.

"He isn't..."

"Still asleep? Yep."

Oh God help us. God help us all.

I'm exaggerating, of course. Jackson was actually great company, jumping into the game of Uno Diego and I were playing. Jackson's energy level rose after eating dinner, and rose, and rose, and rose. The music came on and the dancing began. Poor Diego tried to hang, but eventually made his way into his bed and went to sleep before a story, and just as the dance party was beginning. Jackson and Jeanette cut the rug, while Diego snored and I struggled to keep my eyes open.

The party lines are being drawn in this family, and the message is clear to me. I'll need to start napping if I'm ever going to keep up.