April 23, 2012 at 9:34 pm , by Nick Shell
Jack’s blue “snowman blanket” from Target has been his main blanket since he was born, but now it has earned a regular spot in his daily toy rotation.
It’s not so much of a security blanket, since we won’t let him leave the house with it unless he’s sleeping somewhere else that night.
Instead, it appears to be a fun toy that doubles as a sleeping aid. As a toy, Jack can carry it around for the purpose of being able to play Peek-a-Boo with us at any given moment… repeatedly.
And should he wear himself out in the process, which tends to eventually happen around nap time, he likes to abruptly fall down on the blanket and pretend to sleep.
Granted, Jack won’t actually fall asleep on it. He is simply communicating to me that he is ready for me to take him upstairs to put him in his crib. That leads to a 10 minute “cry it out” session before he’s out cold for a predictable 40 minutes.
It’s a curious thing that he sleeps a solid two hours each weekday at daycare, but how we’re lucky to get two 40 minute naps out of him during the daytime on weekends.
Yesterday was the exception. He slept for 2 hours and 49 minutes; for no particular reason.
We thought we were being sneaky trying to get away with watching an episode of Lost while he napped (it was the one where Hurley finds the VW bus).
But we made it all the way through it, then started the next one, then my wife fell asleep for an hour while I started watching a documentary on Netflix about the life of people who have made a living by being extras in movies, called Strictly Background.
Nearly three hours. I called it a “grace nap.”
It’s a gesture of grace for us the parents; giving us an unexpected break from the typical routine of his. It’s our son giving us the opportunity to be bored; a rare privilege for parents of a young child.
Start noticing on Facebook, about once a week, a status update from a fellow parent joyously proclaiming that their kid slept for a period of time longer than expected. The grace nap is pretty much a big deal.
At least for me, the fact that my son carries around his blanket like Linus from Peanuts is more than just cute; it’s a beacon of hope.