It’s an interesting thing being a parent.  When your kid is a baby you feel like you have no time, mostly because in the blink of an eye you just went from having a *ton* of time you didn’t realize you had, to literally begging the God of your choice for more than two hours of sleep.

That’s what we call a fire-hosing effect.  And like any experience that’s fire-hosed, the real picture can be hidden because of the experience’s deceiving level of intensity.

But then your kid starts to sleep more, and falls into a consistent (hopefully) 3-nap a day routine, and then two, and then one, and you’re still thinking *man this is a lot of work*  A lot of physical work.

Mental work as well to keep the day on track; to pack the bag appropriately, to take your little baby everywhere (and succeed, woohoo!)– but what I’ve come to realize is that at that stage I could still process things in the back of my mind while I was physically doing the rest.

So during the times when a trip to the store was enough stimulation for the kid to tire him or her out– I still basically accomplished the same things I previously would have in a day, except they just took a little longer with a baby now chillin with me.

And the naps, oh the naps.  What a nice break to look forward to.  To take a rest yourself if you needed.  To get something done that required concentration.  To breathe if it was a rough morning.  To <insert a million things> here.

Well then age of 3 happens.

They are now walking and talking and have a billion opinions and questions; are big enough to do most things when asked and want to help with everything but definitely need supervision.  Silence becomes the scariest sound ever.

…And they suddenly decide napping isn’t for them…

That’s a massive paradigm shift as two things have really changed here, not one.

First, they are taking way more mental attention at this age.  When they’re babies you can still walk around the store, perhaps pointing out things or talking if you want, but still thinking about the day, what you need to get done, plotting your revenge against Susie*, etc.

When they’re three you’re in a constant conversation with them in every isle, hopefully remembering to check your list and probably not thinking more than 30 seconds ahead of reality; like the line of scrimmage in football games on TV.

This is an important shift to recognize, because even though it feels like the same (huge) mental capacity is being taken, and it is, it’s being taken differently now.  New things are have now subtly taken over the same footprint in an extended, stealthy shift.

Now, instead of thinking twelve steps ahead for diaper bags and what you’d need for a two hours subway ride with a baby, you’re constantly engaging– answering questions, keeping track of potty breaks, explaining things, stopping them from crossing traffic, coloring, having detailed discussions about different dragon species…  not to mention still trying to do all those things you thought you didn’t have time for when they were babies.  Like feed your family.

Second, they stopped napping.  The physical symptom accompanying this initial coming of age that can cause a reaction of anger and consternation from us, as when the mental part of this shift happens, described above, suddenly naps become a miracle internal reset time after the constant engagement.

The kicker is we probably haven’t even realized the first shift has happened because it’s very gradual, but suddenly we end up way more frustrated when the nap doesn’t occur.

This is the shift.  The mental attention our kiddos need at this stage has changed to something that’s very brain-consuming, and the break that both masked the shift and provided recovery has been taken away.

I’ll be honest.  I found myself very frustrated when my little person suddenly started ditching her naps, and I would want to force the naps more for my benefit than for hers.  Of course I would then get irritated when she didn’t nap; and the beginning of a frustrating downward spiral showed it’s ugly potential.

After a few weeks I began to realize we were irritated with each other more often than not, and that it was, sadly, mostly my fault as the parent. 

The break nature had built into my day as a recovery was suddenly gone.  It didn’t seem fair, I was projecting that emotion onto my awesome kiddo, and she was reflecting right back what I was putting out there.

The experience taught me to change how I stacked and planned my day, and to approach it as an overarching marathon with several smaller sprints instead of a speed race to the next nap “save point.”

It also highlighted to me the behavior we see in others, especially those close to us, can oftentimes have it’s origins in our own actions and inclinations towards them.  

Now, when the people around be are off or irritated I take a quick look at myself- am I off or frustrated?  Sometimes I find that I am, and when I shift my attitude suddenly everyone else does as well.  Interesting how we subtly pick up on the vibes of the people around us and reflect them back without even realizing.

This is a neat thing to be conscious of because it gives us the power to change entire situations through a small shift in our own approach and attitudes.

We can control the narrative.  And teach our children, even at a young age, how to as well.

* I don’t actually know anyone named Suzie.  If your name is Suzie, I’m not actually plotting anything against you.  I don’t think anyway.  I’ll check and get back to you.