Have you ever known anyone to strip their clothes off in defiance? Well, let me tell you a little story. It's widely known that Ethan hates taking naps. He wouldn't sleep at night if he could make it through the day without keeling over from exhaustion. I have to admit, I was a little spoiled while he was sick because he actually took naps. Not one, but usually two! Not for 10 or 20 minutes, but for over an hour! It was amazing. I could work out, take a shower, clean a little, read, or just follow Polly's example and comfortably lounge in the rectangular spot of sunshine that would otherwise be wasted on warming the living room carpet. I enjoyed this alternate reality for far too long.
Since he's been feeling better, Ethan has slowly returned to his routine of throwing tantrums whenever I put him in his room for a nap. The last few days his screaming fits have escalated until, after over an hour of screaming, he screams some more, just more angrily. Waiting it out doesn't work, and he does not go to sleep. Today I tried for over five hours to get him to take a nap. I rocked him, played with him, tickled him, sang to him, played music, drugged him (he needed some Motrin and decongestant anyway), fed him, changed him and finally left him in there to scream (not necessarily in that order). Needless to say, he won. He did not take a nap today, and by the end of it we were both frustrated, exhausted and cranky.
The cream of the story is this. After an episode of me trying to wait him out, I decided I couldn't take anymore or I would end up bald. I went into his room and there he was, his angelic face tear stained and red with effort, emotion and fatigue. He saw me, smiled and started to laugh with the excited expectation of a captive about to be released. He was standing up facing the door, holding onto the crib bars as if he would never taste freedom again, and he was pant-less. Yes, pant-less. Lately, Ethan has gotten into a habit of taking his socks off and throwing them across the room whenever he's put into his crib and is awake enough to protest. I guess he felt the need to raise the bar. Surprised, I looked around and sure enough, his socks were across the room from the crib by the closet doors. Next to them were his pants. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to react to this so, I finally busted out laughing. I just have to say, I'm glad he still wears onesies. Otherwise, he would probably be naked, more often than not, without regard to location or etiquette. I hope and pray that this is a very short phase that doesn't reach little boy hood. In younger days I always laughed at the 'Calvin and Hobbes' comics. How foolish I was to never realize that I would end up being the mom.