Naps.

I like naps.  A lot. 

I'm a napper.  Nappy McNapALot.  Napasaurus.

A little afternoon siesta?  Hell yes.

We gave up {and by we I mean the three year old} naps a few weeks ago because it helps him sleep better and longer at night.  At the time I thought this was a good idea, but now I am rethinking it.  Oh sure, there is a nap here and there still, but it's not like the old days when we'd have an hour or three each day.


Do you know what I want more than anything in the world right now? 

A nap.

By my very own self.

A nice long luxurious afternoon nap cuddled up under my white cotton duvet with my head resting on a down pillow or two, ceiling fan softly whirring.  {I totally know ceiling fans are ugly, but I would rather die than not have one in our room.  Interior decorating gurus be damned.}

In this house either I have a 6 foot hairy dude, a three year old, or a poodle who is considerably more space taking than he should be on me when I sleep and a cat who wants nothing more than to wake us up if he thinks Dave is supposed to go to work.

Each one of them is like a sweat machine, one more sweat inducing than the next.  I wake up sweating my ballz off, violently kicking covers off and having nightmares about being in a toaster.

As if that weren't enough, there are cats waking us up by jumping on our full length mirror... pouncing on his own reflection.  Or a poodle who barks at the slightest noise.  Or phones ringing.

Most of the time, it's all three.

So, if you could send the perfect nap fairy over here to my house, I would be eternally grateful.

And when she's done, the cleaning fairy can pay us a visit next.