Razed by Reveling

Cormac has been taking the lion’s share of the naps around here, lately, so I was pleased to come across this classic one of William, featuring a pleasingly squashed Blue Puppy.

Bacchus Overwhelmed?

What really struck me when I captured this nap was the impression that some type of strange party had taken place, which involved the removal of several pairs of socks and the consumption of a sprig of grapes.

My best theory is that Cormac was here a moment ago.

He commands you!

But who can say?

Guest Napper #21 – Stand-up Sleeper

I remember when I was a kid, standing on the risers in choir.  “Don’t lock your knees!” the teachers would always say.  And who doesn’t remember that girl who fainted and fell forward onto the row in front of her?

Koren sent me this picture of her daughter Rachel, who is clearly practicing to be just such a girl.

Remember - don't lock your knees!

As a humorous aside, I hear she’s a pretty avid thumbsucker.  However, in this case, even the urge to soothe didn’t beat out the urge to snooze.

Almost...there...aughhhhhhh.

I guess the lesson here is that anyone who is due to stand next to Rachel in a few years (either by height or by alphabetical order) would do well to be on her LEFT.  The person on her right is toast.

Talk of the Table

The table nap is growing in popularity.

Child's (Chair) Pose

The first time I saw it, I thought it would be the last.  As usual, I was wrong.  In this case, there wasn’t even a big meal involved.

Just water...thanks.

Okay – well, maybe that’s a cookie next to his cup.  But isn’t that supposed to make him wired?

All curled up...

I’d say it’s the soft chair, but that hasn’t shown to be a major factor in the past.

So much for sitting nicely at the table.

I’m too tired to keep thinking about it.  We’ll have to table this discussion and continue it later.

Napping Network

Happy Monday!

Today’s excellent nap is found via a link to a post by Convertible Girl, whose daughter is following in William and Cormac’s footsteps as a totally awesome stair napper.

Extra props to her for incorporating the word “soporific” in honor of Beatrix Potter.

Enjoy!

 

The Terrifyingly True Tales of Beatrix Potter

Welcome to the June edition of the Character Assassination Carousel, the crazy project initiated by Nicole from Ninja Mom!  Last month, we were treated to a thoughtful analysis of The Boy Who Cried Wolf  by dbs over at ThinkStew.

Now it’s my turn.  And, oh, is it ON.

It’s Potter Mania at my house.  And I’m not talking about Harry.  Where the rest of the world dons robes, we choose pinafores.  Sorting hats? Fuggedaboutit.  We prefer a good bonnet.  Death Eaters and magical nemeses? No thanks.  We’ll stick with sinister pie-making farmers and enormous rats who argue about recipes.  The name is Potter.  Beatrix Potter.

When Ninja Mom generously invited me to participate in the Character Assassination Carousel, I jumped at the chance, even with the certainty that another blogger would have already snatched Beatrix ahead of me.  Are her stories not a childhood rite of passage?  Do we not all aspire to the 23 book set with the adorable child-size volumes, foot-smashing rectangular storage box and maddeningly interchangeable dust jackets? To my shock and amazement, however, my mistress of the barnyard menagerie had not yet been claimed.  I knew, in that moment, she would be mine.

To those of you who may only be familiar with Peter Rabbit, I entreat you to move beyond fluffy bunnies (and their naughty, thieving forays) and discover some of the more meaningful life lessons we can teach our children, using Potter’s complete works. The morals to her stories are as relevant today as they ever were.

Exhibit A:  The Story of a Fierce Bad Rabbit

Plot: Cute bunny is eating a carrot his mommy gave him.  Bad rabbit comes and snatches it like milk money.  Doesn’t say “please” and leaves cute bunny with a nasty scratch.  Not being a confrontational type, cute bunny runs and hides in a hole.

Bully in action.

Luckily, a man with a gun appears, blows the a%& off the bad rabbit as he enjoys his plunder in the open, and the bad rabbit is seen high-tailing it into the distance.

Bang!

Revenge is sweet.

Moral:  Bullies take note – payback is a bitch.  Also, don’t shoot where you eat.

Bonus points for ballsiness to Potter on this one, for making it “especially for very young children.”

Exhibit B:  The Roly, Poly, Pudding

This is one of the more advanced Potter books, and has a pretty complicated plot, but I’ll try to boil it down for you.  Tom Kitten’s mother, Tabitha Twitchit, needs to do some baking, and this means she needs her kittens off her back, so she plans to lock all three of them in the cupboard (whether or not it is “under the stairs” is not known).  You may think this sounds like Muggle torture, but I have baked with my kids (when I should have locked them in the cupboard, instead) and this is what happened.

So I have some sympathy for Tabitha’s cupboard plans.  Anyway, it doesn’t work, because Tom becomes wise to the threat and escapes before Twitchit can shut him in there with the comparatively stupid obedient Moppet and Mittens.  Testing my theory that he is smarter than his siblings, Tom decides that the chimney would be a great place to hide…even with a fire burning.

Hm. Whatever could it mean?

While climbing the chimney and choking on smoke, he finds some mutton bones that have been “gnawed upon.” For those of you who are wondering about Edwardian English farm houses, NO, it was not normal to keep your sheep in the chimney.  Additionally, Tom Kitten (forensic catologist) notices a “funny smell…like mouse; only dreadfully strong.”  As a fan of CSI, I have to point out that these data points might have been a huge red flag to our intrepid kitten.

Undaunted, however, he proceeds, and finds himself, shortly, in a scene reminiscent of that of the cannibal house in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road.  Two enormous rats proceed to tie him up and prepare him to be baked in a pudding.  Here’s the part I have to like, though. They argue about what ingredients are best used and how he should be prepared.

What would Lidia Bastianich say?

Well, thankfully Tom Kitten is rescued just in the nick of time.

This should ensure night terrors for...well...EVER.

And I’m not sure whether I am horrified or have admiration for the fact that crazy Tabitha decides to re-use the dough he was almost roasted in, even though it has “smut” in it.

Moral:  “If You Find Mutton Bones While Climbing Up Your Chimney, Turn Back.”

Exhibit C: The Pie and the Patty Pan

This little doozy features the same Type A mother cat from The Roly, Poly Pudding, so you know it’s going to be a neurosis-fest.  Tabitha Twitchit invites her dog friend Duchess (yes, cats and dogs can be friends) over for dinner. Duchess is in the middle of making a pie, but in the great tradition of female passive aggressiveness, she accepts the invite and proceeds to lament the possibility that she will now have to eat a pie made out of mouse…when everyone who watches dog food commercials knows that pups eat stuff like veggies and lamb and rice.  Not mouse.

Let the fun begin.

Instead of just going with a small lie like “I’m allergic to mouse” or “I have ethical issues with the conditions under which mice are raised,” Duchess concocts an elaborate plan in which she will commit the felony of breaking and entering Twitchit’s house in order to secretly stuff her own veal pie (hellloooo being unethical, anyway) in the cat’s oven.  Because, like, Tabitha will never notice she’s eating veal instead of mouse.

As you can imagine, hilarity ensues.

Crime never pays!

Moral: Tie between “Lies are simpler than breaking and entering” and “If you have special dietary restrictions, just don’t accept invitations.”

Exhibit D: The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies

The pile of wee flopsy bunnies gorge themselves on soporific lettuces from the evil Mr. McGregor’s compost heap.  Calling into question whether or not lettuce may actually contain tryptophan, they all sink into a deep sleep.

I have, personally, witnessed such puzzling and sudden fits of exhaustion, sometimes brought on by meals.

Very soporific. Also, musical.

This is bad, though.  While they are enjoying the sweet sleep of the innocents, the detestable Mr. McGregor (of Peter Rabbit infamy) discovers them, bags them, and takes them away to nearly certain death.

Uh oh.

McGregor and his nasty wife are seen back at their house, with the sack, arguing whether the baby bunnies should be sold to provide him with cancer-causing tobacco, or if they should be skinned to provide a lining for the old lady’s cloak.  Basically, a politically incorrect nightmare.

More night terrors ahead.

Luckily, their argument is rendered moot.  In a clever maneuver (that makes me think Tabitha Twitchit should swear off eating mouse pie) Ms. Thomasina Tittlemouse manages to help rescue the baby bunnies  from the clutches of the farmer and his wife.  As they escape, the youngest wee bunny is hit in the head by some rotten marrow hurled by the farmer’s wife, but they escape otherwise unhurt.

Moral:  Kids fall asleep in strange places.  It’s your job to keep them from being bagged and removed.

I, myself, have found a wee babe sleeping in the garden, and I’m very glad I learned the lesson of the Flopsy Bunnies at a young age.

Quick! McGregor will put you in a pie!

So it is that I leave you with this to consider:  should we not be sharing these tiny volumes, which are so full of big wisdom, with our children?  I, for one, am grateful to know that the tough world of the barnyard has happy endings…even for those of us who are stupid enough to climb up a chimney with a fire burning.

The lessons are not over!  Check in at Suburban Snapshots next month to see another favorite children’s author admired…er…destroyed…by Brenna!

Sleepy Spelunker

I can’t think of anything clever to say about this, but I don’t think you’ll need my help to find the humor in it.

...and all that was left of him...

So often, I come into a quiet room and can’t find my child for a few seconds.  I know he’s napping somewhere.  The challenge is to figure out which crevice he’s in.

There he is. Intact.

Maybe he’ll find some money under the couch while he’s at it.

Perhaps he's a future spelunker?

More likely some stale Cheerios, unfortunately.

Suspenseful Sleep

Since we’re on a roll with naps at the table, I thought I’d throw this one up there.  It’s getting downright ho-hum, all this balancing-in-chairs and whatnot.

Once again, asleep at the table.

The wider view provides an extra injection of humor, however.

We are not alone...

It’s almost a cliffhanger.  What will happen next?

Leave a comment for me and offer up your suggestion…if you dare.

Guest Nappers #19…and #20

This Sleeping Beauty is wearing the wrong Disney princess as a mascot, as she is clearly more inclined to emulate one of the snoozier ladies.

What came first, the spillage or the nap?

I’m grateful to Jennifer for sending me this snap of her daughter Rayne, who clearly just couldn’t make it through her entire meal before conking out.

But wait!  There is more!

Two babies!

Her brother Trace was also overcome mid-sip, adding to the growing evidence that some type of evil lunchtime spell has been wrought.

On the other hand, what may be an evil sleeping spell to the child can be a fairy’s gift to an exhausted parent.  Tandem nap?  YES, PLEASE!

For that, my lovelies, is the most powerful magic of all.  Have a great weekend!

Naps Happen on the Road!

Sorry for the nap starvation diet, but my family just spent a gorgeous week in Maine. Of course you KNOW that the show goes on, regardless of location. Sheesh.

Not all the naps were funny, but this one sure was.

Over a barrel...

I was inside the house when Dan ran in and hissed “get the camera!” It seems wee Cormac had so exhausted himself romping in the great outdoors that he threw himself over the porch end table and conked out.

or is that an upside down magazine holder?

No – wait – it’s some kind of crate for …stuff.  But definitely not for babies.

either way...not soft

The piece you can’t see is that it’s about 60 degrees on this covered porch. Parents will be glad to know that I did move the ridiculous boy onto the couch and cover him with copious blankets. He had the deeply satisfying sleep of the great outdoors.

Ahhhhhh.