I have never managed to get a strict routine with the little man's daytime nap. For a start he won't go in his cot but as he has always been such a good sleeper at night, I haven't pushed him into going back there in the day; besides, it is useful having him sleep in the pram as it means I can be out and about and still fit in around him, and if he wakes too early, I can rock him back off.
The timing has been a bit hit and miss too, and it can sometimes be as late as 2.30pm or 3pm before he finally drops off. But what I wasn't expecting was him not to drop off at all.
Twice last week, and once this week, the little man has decided he doesn't need a daytime snooze after all. No amount of rocking or endless miles pushing him around the streets will do it. He chats away, his little head popping up and engaging with the world just when I think I have finally won the battle.
The trouble is, he really does need his sleep and by dinner time he is beside himself with exhaustion. And he's not the only one. I have come to count on that little window of peace as a chance to race around doing all those little jobs that need doing but are difficult to accomplish with a toddler hanging off your legs. Like washing, filling the dishwasher, all those glamorous things.
I realise daytime naps are not a permanent fixture but he is still only 20 months so I have a few months yet haven't I? I know, I'll have a talk with him, mother to son, I'm sure he'll understand.