"Quiet Time" named optimistically, foolishly.

Ahhhh...nap time. Sarah's had her swimming lesson. Kate and I have walked about 8 miles with breaks for hot chocolate and running in circles and screaming in the gazebo on the square in Decatur. Must be Saturday. The swim lesson always takes a lot out of Sarah and she'll nap for a solid 2 hours. And then...there's Kate.

We've long since abandoned the notion that Kate may actually sleep during the day and changed "nap time" to "quiet time" for her. During this period, she is banished to a bed, usually the one in the guest room, owing to the room's lack of toys and sundries, where she must remain for one hour. We allow her to bring books with her. Kate detests Quiet Time.

Today she was allowed to lie down in Mommy & Daddy's bed and listen to the radio, which is set to NPR. I turned it way down and closed all the blinds and tiptoed out to create a mood of quiet. I headed to the kitchen to plan this week's menu and the majority of our Christmas gifts (Do I love you? Expect something baked...) in peace. Jeremiah is out getting a haircut. The pets are napping in their respective sunny spots. This is the good life. Until...

Kate decided the radio should be LOUD and is now blaring opera and reading her books to herself at a level that exceeds that of the radio. And whining. "Uuuugggh! A mosquito bit me! [false] I don't wanna read that book! [thud]" Instead of creating the environment for my one @#$%ing peaceful hour in the entire day myself, it's being set by the 3-year-old in a black mood. I noticed I was pounding coffee and flipping through the pages of my cookbooks without looking at them. Why can't I find that one recipe I wanted? Who threw it away?!? I'll kill Jeremiah if he did!* As is so often the case at the end of this hour, I've gotten nothing done and am grumpy. I think I detest Quiet Time, too.

*This is an outlandish thought. Jeremiah never throws anything away and I complain incessantly about his packrat habits and "collections". If anyone threw a recipe away it was most certainly me. Which only makes me angrier.