The end of naps is nigh.
She's so close to four she's planning her 'birfday partee', so tall and strong and funny and mouthy and gorgeous. She's *this* close to four, and the other 2 had left naptime far behind by the time they'd reached this ripe old age.
But oh: the profound stillness that comes over her when finally she climbs onto my bed, rubs her soft blanket against her cheek and lowers her eyelids. Her entire being welcomes the quiet, welcomes the chance to let it all be, just for an hour or two.
As with so much of life, our instincts at three speak to what is basic within us. The ability to be still and rest peacefully.
How long has it been since we've laid down our burdens (preschool or otherwise) and rested?