Naps are right up there with puppies and mint moose tracks ice cream for me. I cannot tell you the number of times I’ve cuddled with Benjamin since he was born and inadvertently fall asleep. Sometimes I want to kick myself because it’s 4:38am and my neck is achingly sore from being screwed up in an awkward position while nursing him in the rocking chair. Or sometimes it’s 10:23am and I feel guilty because I had visions of a productive day and my “go-go” brain just can’t stop worrying about how many things could have been checked off the list in that time. But most of the time I feel like a million dollars after these naps, at least once the groggy spacehead fog wears off. I also dream during these naps and that is something my sleep-deprived-self has not done in a long time. One of the many wonderful things Benjamin has taught me in his 83 days on this planet is the lost art of napping.