Poltergeist, exorcism, and that damn ghost kitty


I’ve talked openly about my child’s refusal to nap and its subsequent effect on me.  We’ve been battling the “Nap Issue” for some time now. Eons ago, Oma said “perhaps she’s just giving it up?” to which I threw tomatoes at her and booed very loudly.  I may have even hissed, I’m not sure. Either way, I know that even if SHE thinks she does not need a nap, *I* know she does. She claims she wants to go play because “my eyes aren’t tired, Mommy!” but I see this:


Sometimes after a struggle, she really will nap. And that? Is a sort of exorcism here.


I haven’t found the solution to prevent my own head from spinning 360 degrees or the flames darting out of my own eyes on days she doesn’t nap. I’ve tried it all. In the end? I don’t know what the magic formula is but you can bet your bottom dollar that I furiously replay whatever happened on a day when she does nap and I’ll try to repeat it to the very detail: “Fell asleep with polka dot dress OVER PJ’s.” Check.

************** Only slightly related *************

Did I tell you that my child has a poltergeist kitty? Oh, what? No? YOUR kid doesn’t have a ghost pet? Oh, well, really, you should get a ghost kitty that scares the crap out of your toddler so she’ll go running and jump on whatever piece of furniture is closest to her claiming, “THE KITTY! THE KITTY! THE KITTY SCRATCH!” I wouldn’t be lying if I said it creeps me out just a wee bit. If you ask her where the kitty is? It’s always in a different place. Sometimes it’s on mommy’s bed, sometimes it’s on LB’s bed, sometimes it’s in the garage. But sometimes it comes after her and makes her jump on the bed/sofa/chair perfectly scaring the holy hell out of me.

I always thought I’d have to scare away a monster. I never pictured a kitty under the bed. Somehow, that seems much, much worse.