I have decided that, if Morgan has a Jabberwocky, it is naptime. Not bedtime, mind you; just naptime. I was walking her around last night on my shoulder after feeding her and she fell asleep, so I slowly sat down and leaned back, only to have her start fussing. I moved her from my shoulder to my lap and found that her eyes were closed, and I, like a terrible parent, sat there and watched for a good minute or two as she fussed and gave small cries with her eyes closed before getting her back on my shoulder and walking her around again. I couldn’t help it – it was so absurdly funny that it bordered on ludicrous while still being absolutely endearingly sweet.
Walking around put her back to sleep in pretty short order, this time for a good couple of hours, but it just made me stop and wonder what it is about naptime that can put so many kids into a bit of a cranky mood, and that’s when the thought of the Jabberwocky struck me.
That extra need for sleep when the world is so new and fascinating must seem like the greatest inconvenience imaginable. Sure, they’re happier after a nap than they are if they don’t get one, but their minds aren’t entirely logical yet, so the correlation between nap and better moods isn’t a concrete one for them yet. Instead, this lurking monster of sleep comes creeping up on them when they least expect it, taking them out of the world for an hour or two. At the very least, that has to be annoying, but to have something so far out far out of your control when you already have so little control has to be a somewhat fearful thing.
Walking around bobbing up and down, rocking back and forth can help distract from that creeping sleepiness, which Jen and I are all too happy to do, but it seems like once Morgan is aware of the Jabberwocky’s presence, only sleep can make her forget it. At least this Jabberwocky is really good, because she always comes back happy as a clam!