My days with Bridget go one of either two ways:

She either doesn’t nap, which means she’s a kid on crack by 3PM, but asleep between the heavenly hour of 6:30 or 7:00 PM each night,

or

She does nap, which means she’s up until 9:00 or 10:00 PM.

I don’t know which is the lesser of the two evils. If Bridget doesn’t nap during the day and ends up going to bed early, those few hours without a kid hanging off my body or requesting water or apples every five minutes before I go to bed is bliss. I can watch the season finale of NCIS without interruption.

On the other hand, if she does nap during the day, I usually have a whoppin’ 30-45 minutes of uninterrupted time before the big kids get home from school during which to answer emails and complete a little work. Ocassionally, I will forage for food and indulge without my children requesting a bite, because nothing is worse than your kid taking the last cheese stick when you really wanted one for yourself or having to share leftover pizza.

There are times when I have to wake up Bridget, especially if the 2-hour nap mark is approaching. Some kids can sleep half the afternoon and still manage to go to bed at a reasonable hour. Hannah was just such a kid. She loves her sleep even now. Bridget, on the other hand, could take a 15-minute nap and be energized for the next year.

But there are always certain risks associated with waking Bridget on my terms. The biggest risk is that she will get up on the proverbial wrong side of the bed, which often happens. And trust me, you don’t want to be anywhere near her when she’s in a mood.

Today was one of those days when I had to wake Bridget early. She fell asleep at 1:30, and the house was blessedly quiet until 2:15 when the older kids came charging through the front door demanding to be fed. At 2:30, I opened Bridget’s bedroom door and basically told Hannah and Jacob to make as much noise as they possibly could. Funny that they would choose today to act like civilized children and play quiet games.

At 3:00, and hour and a half into the nap, I began kissing Bridget on her cheeks and forehead. However, it was apparent by her open-mouthed expression and REM that she was deep in sleep. 3:24, and I’m getting nervous.

more kissing

a little movement

more kissing

“Bridget . . . .”

a swipe of the hand. “Mommy, don’t TALK to me!”

Lovely.

But then I spied something across the street in our neighbor’s yard. A big yellow digger. Bridget loves construction vehicles. I wonder . . .

“Bridget, it looks like there’s a digger across the street.”

And just like that, she was up and feeling fine, the last vestiges of sleep shaken away. “Wow! Look at that!”

I dodged a bullet today. To say that I am nervous about waking up my child is an understatement.