Quiet Time Machine

Nothing has elicited as much sympathy from other parents as the recent reality that Hudson has given up his naptime. For weeks we attempted Quiet Time with no success. He would either stand at his baby-gated bedroom door and SCREAM to be let out or throw such a hissy fit that I would be in tears just trying to get him to chill out and stay in his room.

Enter this little item of magic: a blue sand hour glass.
Well, correction: a blue sand thirty minute glass.

My buddy Cindy found one for me and it was work every cent of its $9.99 sticker price. We call it our Quiet Time Machine. Hudson loves looking at it. He wants to touch it so bad, but it is real glass and that makes me nervous. So, it sits on his desk (up high) most of the time, but during Quiet Time it comes down to his eye level. This little magic machine has worked now for four straight days. The first day he did "trick" me twice by saying it was "all done" but since then he is quiet in his room, playing, reading, and doing his on thing for the entire time.

Let me tell you it is the most sacred 30 minutes of my day. And just like every other sappy second that I am away from him, yesterday I could not help myself to sneak by his bedroom and see exactly what he was doing while we were apart. This is what I found:

I didn't even watch that old silly soap opera and all I keep thinking is, "Like sands through the hourglass, these are the days of our lives."