I seem to birth babies that aren't all that into the napping thang. Both of them catnapped as infants, with twenty minutes pretty much being the max. Then after a year or so they condensed those unpredictable mini-naps into one unpredictable forty minute or so nap. After a few months, around eighteen months or so, they were DONE.
"Oh my GAWD. I could NEVER do it; I could NOT handle it if Michaela/Tanner/Emma/Rhys/*insert the name of incredulous parent's perfect little napper here* didn't take their three hour nap every day at precisely one o'clock. I would go crazy."
Yea, well, I can't do it either. But I do. And I am nuts, but that is another story.
Now, every rule has an exception. There are those random, unexpected days when as preschoolers, one of my kids would fall asleep in the car. Not a good thing, because then they inevitably stay up until just the moment before I hurl myself out the window, and then they close their sweet little eyes and enter slumberland. At which point I look at those eyelashes grazing their soft cheeks and forget why I was ready to crack open that bottle of WHATEVER is in the cupboard over the fridge (because I drank all of the wine).
Today is one of those days. My girl fell asleep an hour and a half ago in the car. My husband will be home late. CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP.