Hello, Pushkin

If naps were made of gold (which they are), I'd be rich (which I guess, following that logic, I am).

Mae has started having three naps a day. It's such a beautiful thing. In just over a week, I've written more than 12 single-spaced pages of the YA book I've been working on. Not to mention that the dishes usually get done and the house is more or less clean. Plus. I've re-covered three of our four dining room chairs.

And then there's the fact that she's even lovelier than usual after she's had a little rest. She peeks out from underneath her strawberry sun hat and leans forward in her stroller during walks, babbling away at the flowers and trees. And when she does her shy smile, hiding her mouth against her own shoulder, people melt for miles around.

Of course, the only downside to all of this is that I'm already hooked on our new lifestyle. A friend reminded me recently that babies usually start napping only once a day, somewhere around their first birthdays, and I wanted to scream "Noooooo! Not Mae!! Mae will keep having three naps a day until she's at least four. She has to!"

Sigh. Oh well. I guess the main thing is to enjoy the naps while I've got them. Speaking of which, she will probably be up in about half an hour, and after that she'll be wanting to crawl around (since she's officially crawling, as of Saturday!), so, for the time being, I am off to write while I still can...