Second Sleep


Dear diary,

Mama makes me sleep two times when the sun is up. I sleep lots when the sun sleeps, of course, but when sun is awake mama makes me sleep two more times.

The first time is ok. It’s exhausting to wake up and talk to mama so much, and then to eat breakfast (diary, sometimes she even makes me feed MYSELF – can you believe that?) and after that I have to inventory my toys to make sure they’re all still there (especially the table gramma gave me for Christmas. I check for him first every day). So when mama brings me upstairs to the sleepy chair I don’t mind. I usually just put my head down and sleep.

But diary, the second time mama makes me sleep I try to charm her out of it. I do the same routine every day and I’m just sure that if I persevere then someday I’ll convince her. When she brings me to the sleepy chair I have a particular order in which I do things. Allow me to elaborate:

1) Vigorously kick feet so she knows I’m not really tired. Then lay my head on her chest.

2) Brush mama’s hair with my fingers. For some reason it gets stuck so I just pull until my fingers are free again. Mama often bends her head toward me when I do this, so I know she really likes it. Sometimes I try to adjust her glasses for her too but she doesn’t seem to enjoy that as much.

3) Do my patented Comedy Gopher routine. Lift my head up, grin really big, stick my tongue out at her, then flop my head back down on her chest. I like to repeat this step at least a half dozen times because I’m sure that in the end this is the one that will convince her I don’t need to sleep. Most days I get her to laugh at least once by doing this. I like to spice it up by sometimes blowing raspberries at her, testing out my new syllables, squealing with joy, and zerberting her chest. Every now and again I try to throw myself off her lap to freedom, too, but she doesn’t seem to be a big fan of that one. I don’t know why.

4) This is my last resort. When all else fails I yell at her. I flail a bit, and rub my face on her. I thought I had another step after this, diary, but often the next thing I know I’m waking up in my bed. That mama sure is tricky.

I continue to perform these steps every day when second sleep time arrives. I feel really confident that if I just do them enough she’ll have to agree with me and stop taking me to sleepy chair for second sleep.

Wide awake,



Dear diary,

Remember when I told you how mama went away that one time and I was SURE she wasn’t coming back ever?

Diary, it happened again. Last time she was gone when I woke up in the morning and still gone when I went to sleep, but when I yelled for her from my bed she appeared like magic.

This time we spent our day like usual, me feeding the dogs the weird flat things mama gives me that she calls cookies (I’ve seen the cookies she eats and I don’t think they’re like mine, Diary), mama drinking that brown stuff she makes every morning that she says wakes her up even though she already looks awake to me, and then me cleaning the floors for her with my belly as I motor around the living room. It’s a service I perform free of charge, even though mama doesn’t appreciate me dusting under the furniture with my legs as much as I think she should.

After nap daddy was home and then mama left. No big deal. I showed daddy my army crawl and impressed him with my pushups.

But diary, when bedtime came mama still wasn’t home. I tried to be a good boy and go to sleep but I kept thinking that if I yelled like I did last time maybe mama would appear again. But she didn’t… After a couple of hours I gave up and subsided into sleep.

Saturday was fine. Daddy and I visited with Grandma and she had a balloon that I played with. We went in the car to the baby store (but you can’t buy babies there. Their marketing is pretty misleading, I think) because mama told daddy he had to get me diapers at the one day sale, and they had a ceiling fan I got to watch. So that was cool. I forgot about mama being gone.

But when nighttime came again and she still wasn’t home I started to get really scared. What if she never came back? What if I never got to chew on her again, or show her my tricks? What if she never ate my face or zerberted my belly? Diary this was just too much to take. So even though daddy did everything he could to soothe me, I yelled. A lot. For a long time. When daddy held me I didn’t yell quite as much, but I still whimpered. When he tried to put me down I told him the only way I could that it was NOT okay to do that. Diary, I thought if I yelled long enough mama would have to come back. But she didn’t. I waited until two in the morning but then I couldn’t stay awake anymore.

Mama did come home the next day but now I’m worried that if I turn my back for too long she’ll disappear again. Diary, why don’t they make a mama tracker? I hold onto her really tight when she tries to put me in baby jail, but she still gets away sometimes and leaves the room. I’ve started to yell when she does that sometimes, because I don’t think it’s right to leave me like that.

Diary, I think she needs retraining.