Naptime becomes a neurological exercise...

Yesterday, I put CR upstairs at around 2:30pm, as I usually do for naptime. As I sat at my laptop, gazing at our new little golden girl (she either has olive Italian skin like Grammy M, or she is a little more jaundiced than the doctors led on), I heard the pitter-patter of little feet above me. I asked what he was doing, and he replied, "just playing, Mommy."

Okay, a little playtime is allowed, but this was getting a little ridiculous - the footsteps and happy-little-boy-sounds went on for about 15-20 minutes. I am fine with a little solo time, but if it involves getting out of bed, then the proverbial beat-down is the next course of action.

I climbed our stairs to his room, a little peeved, and then saw this...

CR completed his Thomas puzzle all by himself...I even struggle a bit when it comes to the skyline pieces...how could I possibly be upset when he was constructively cutting into his siesta...good job, little boy - I am very proud, but tomorrow, it's head-to-pillow for you.