NO NAP!
Little! Trinity Satnos & CG! Baran Al-Hashimi
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( was thinking about making a Discord, but only if enough people wanted to join lol, obviously 18+ and SFW agree friendly, but mainly to talk about the pitt and make friends!)
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The signs were unmistakable by noon.
First, there was the yawning deep, jaw-cracking yawns that Trinity tried to hide behind her blanket and failed at completely. Then there was the doorframe incident, where she'd misjudged the corner by about three inches and bumped her shoulder and then sat on the floor and cried for eleven full minutes about it, inconsolable, Gumbo pressed to her face. The little girl couldn't help but rub her eyes, which were already half-lidded, every few seconds. Then there was the extended standoff over which cup had the right kind of juice in it, which was apparently not any cup currently in the kitchen.
Baran watched her carefully from the couch as Trinity stood in the middle of the living room in her little cloud-print pyjama set, blanket trailing from one hand, paci in, Gumbo under her arm, eyes red-rimmed and glassy.
Three today. A very tired, stubborn three.
"Lovebug," Baran said.
"Mm," Trinity mumbled. Warily. Like she already knew.
"I think maybe it's time for a little—"
"No."
"—rest. Just a quiet—"
"Nuh uh." Trinity's grip on Gumbo tightened. "No. Nap. Mama."
"Not a nap," Baran said carefully. "Just quiet time. In your room. With your blanket."
Trinity stared at her. Her eyes were practically sliding shut from the weight of her own tiredness and she was still staring at Baran with complete, ironclad refusal.
"not seepy," she said. The words came out slightly slurred.
"Okay." Baran was faking calm facial expressions as if not to scare the easily ruffled toddler standing in front of her. Knowing that if Trinity didn't have a nap today, it would be hell to pay for later.
She yawned again, enormous, the kind that took over her whole face. She finished it and looked at Baran with great dignity. " wasn' a weal one."
"Of course not," Baran said.
"jus'—" She waved her hand. "Stwetchin' my mouf."
"Right."
"fings to do," Trinity said. "I have fings, Mama. Impowtant fings." The R's were going. They always went when she was tired or upset, sliding sideways into W's, the edges of words softening like something being worn down. "no nap—" she searched for a reason "—because Bwuey is on."
"Bluey will still be there after quiet time."
Trinity considered this dangerously. "What if she's not?"
"She will be."
"What if—"
"Trin." Baran held out her hand. Just her hand. Open. Palm faced down, reaching out.
Trinity looked at it. Her eyes were betraying her completely now, drooping at the corners. She looked at Baran's face. She looked back at the hand.
"Not a nap," she said. A last stand. Barely standing.
"Not a nap," Baran agreed.
Trinity walked over and took the hand, and her grip was loose and warm, and she leaned against Baran's side as they walked down the hall like she'd run out of energy to hold herself upright. She picked her up, already swaying and patting her back.
In the nursery, Baran turned down the sheets and put the little girl face up, and she immediately burrowed under her blanket with Gumbo ( her stuffed bunny), paci in. She turned to face the wall. Very pointed. Clearly demonstrating that she was simply resting. Simply existing quietly. This was not a nap.
Baran was leaning over the crib, running slow circles on her back.
"Not sweepin'," Trinity said, muffled by the pacifier in her mouth.
"No," Baran said.
"Jus' wayin'."
"Just laying," Baran agreed.
The room was warm and dim, the curtains filtering everything to something amber and soft.
"Mama?" Trinity's voice was barely above a breath.
"Mm?"
"Stay?"
"Right here," Baran said. "Not going anywhere, baby."
A silence. Baran listened to her breathe.
Trinity was out in less than 2 minutes. Baby breaths evening out, mixing with the sound of the nursery's beloved sound machine.
Baran looked at her for a long moment, small and certain and entirely knocked out, one hand still loosely curled around Gumbo's ear, lashes dark against her cheeks. She reached over and fixed the blanket where it had slipped.
"No nap, my ass, sweet girl", Baran muddered to herself. But she had won the war.
