I knew this day was coming, but I really wasn’t prepared for it: Leah is no longer indulging in afternoon naps — which means our post-lunch schedule needs to be completely reworked. So far, this seems to involve more trips to the playground.

Between Adam and Leah, I’ve had a couple hours of silence after lunch during which I could work for the last seven years — now I’m struggling to plan activities that keep her occupied without a lot of active involvement on my part (preferably ones that don’t include copious amounts of time on the iPad — I think I’ve reached my fill of Phineas and Ferb). Sadly, unsupervised Quiet Time in her room is a no-go — she’s way too mischievous for that to work.

Right now I’m letting her “work like Mummy” at the kitchen table — she enjoys colouring and practising her scissors skills, but she is somewhat disappointed that working like Mummy hasn’t translated into getting her own laptop.

We’ve been nap-free for a couple weeks now but we’re still clearly in the transition phase during which Leah is adjusting to the new sleep schedule. By the time we pick up Adam after school, she’s often super cranky and ready to conk out if I were to let her sleep (fat chance on that one). I think we’re making progress, though, and Leah reminds me (on a daily basis) that she’s a big girl now, while naps are just for babies. And she is Not a Baby.

In theory, the lack of napping means that it takes less time for Leah to fall asleep at night. Sadly, this only seems to be true about fifty percent of the time; some nights she gets a second wind by seven o’clock and we’re still fighting to get her to shut her eyes at 9:30. Also in theory, this should have flipped my schedule a bit so that I play with Leah during the day and then have time to work at night — but I’m exhausted by these extra hours of playing that I’m not nearly as productive come evening as I used to be.

Even still, I know the exhaustion will be (somewhat) short-lived: come September, Leah will be in full-day kindergarten and the hours between 9 a.m. and 3 p.m. will be mine. All mine. Of course, as these things tend to go, I’ll probably begin to wish that I could stretch the hours between school pick-up and bedtime so that we’d have more time together.

Until then, I’ll make the most of our afternoons: reading, baking, playing and cuddling — and figuring out if there’s a way to bring her on as an apprentice graphic designer (which would justify the laptop she’s after).