David has skipped his nap four days in a row. By the time I get home, he is completely delirious--unable to decide whether to cry or laugh at any particular moment. So is Jaime. Last night, I took him to the library. The change of environment, lower stimulation, and big open spaces calmed him down a bit. As long as he didn't touch the books, I let him wander about and more or less decide our agenda (I know that sounds silly, not touching books in a library, but our library is a post-literate institution with a great deal of non-book-related space). In the art gallery, he identified things like "tree," "horse," "abstracted representation of the artist's subconscious fear of his mother," etc.. More enjoyable was laying on the bench and commanding me to alternately sit down and stand up over and over again.
His other new sleep-related hobby is waking in the middle of the night and crying loudly for his mother.
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