N is three years old now, and resisting naps with all his might. The other day the two of us were home alone, around his usual nap time. I was pushing him on the swing and his little eyes were drooping closed so much that I was worried he was going to fall of the swing.

“Okay, time to get ready for a nap,” I said.

Amazingly, he didn’t argue. He went down the slide one last time (which is what we always do), and then ran inside and climbed into bed. He stayed there quietly while I closed the drapes and the doors and did everything else to make sure he was ready for his nap.

I whispered good night and left, closing his bedroom door quietly behind me.

Two minutes later, he came running out of his room, eyes as wide open as he could make them. “All done!”

I corrected him, of course. We went back to his bedroom and I agreed to read him some sleepy time stories while he napped. He climbed into bed, closed his eyes, and listened while I quietly read him some stories. Once I heard him snoring, I turned off the light and quietly left, closing the door behind me.

Two minutes later, he came running out of his room again, eyes wide open. “All done!”

After one more try, I gave up on the nap.

When his mom came home a few hours later, she took one look at him as he was slowly falling over on the couch. “Oh, you look so tired! Didn’t you take a nap?”

Without waiting for him to answer, she turned to explain to me the importance of naps.

I really didn’t feel like a lecture. I listened politely and then shrugged and said, “He did take a nap.”

“Yeah, momma!” the little guy chimed in. “I took THREE!”

That’s not helping, little guy. Not helping!