Despite any (okay, a lot) of frustration with the pre-schooler recently, he really is my sweet little guy. Pete will be four in April, and he's finally giving up naps. I'm a little sad, because it means I'm losing about two hours of my day where I could also lay down for a break. Realistically, adding in the third baby next month meant I was going to lose that two hours anyway, so now is a good time to accept the new routine. But the consequence of an overtired pre-schooler around here means he can dissolve into a fit of tears over the slightest provocation that wouldn't normally phase him. It also means he is quite hyper, literally running into the walls, the couch, the chair over and over while screaming made up songs in an effort to fight the sleep.
Pete is now typically able to make it all day with just a quiet time after lunch while Chester sleeps, but occasionally he just can't take it anymore. Here's what happened while I cooked dinner earlier this week:
Tonight I could see that Pete was having a rough afternoon, barely keeping it together while I made dinner (a failed attempt at General Tso's but that's a whole other blog). We pushed up the time for jammies, cleaning the toys and 30 minutes of a special show (the current favorite is the DVR of Ice Age Christmas) and by 7pm we sat down to read a book in our rocking chair. I snuggled him up on my lap and read the Lion King book. And then he fell asleep in my arms as we rocked. It's been years since Pete has fallen asleep in my arms and it's one of the sweetest things in life. It's enough to give me the strength for tomorrow, and one day at a time is all you can ask for with soon to be three boys under four.