I Don’t Need a Nap!
Hey friends,
I’ve been thinking more about this whole “recovery feels like being a toddler” thing I talked about last blog, and there’s one part that keeps hitting me harder lately: emotions. Toddlers don’t just have feelings—they have huge, unstoppable, all-over-the-body feelings that come with zero filter and very few words to match. And honestly? That’s exactly where my brain is right now too.
Those Giant, Wordless Emotions
One minute everything’s okay, and the next a wave crashes in—frustration, sadness, being overwhelmed, or even sudden joy—and it’s so intense I can barely breathe through it. My chest tightens, my face gets hot, tears might show up uninvited, or I just feel like I need to move or hide or yell but nothing comes out right. It’s like my brain is back in toddler mode: the emotion center is fully online and screaming, but the “let’s put this into calm sentences” part is still napping in the corner.
I catch myself doing classic toddler things without meaning to: crossing my arms tight, huffing, pacing in little circles, or just staring at the floor because saying “I’m upset” feels impossible. Sometimes the only thing that escapes is a shaky “I don’t know” or “It’s too much.” And that’s okay. It really is. Just like a toddler isn’t “bad” for melting down—they’re just overloaded—I’m not “bad”, my brain is failing at processing when the feelings get too big. It’s still wiring itself back together.
Here’s a little visual of what those overwhelmed toddler moments look like (because sometimes seeing it helps normalize it for me too):
See that full-body protest? That scrunched-up face and the way everything feels urgent? Yeah… been there. A lot. - … - A lot!
The Classic “I Don’t Need a Nap” Battle
And then there’s the nap thing. Oh man, this one is so real. After raising five of our toddlers in our home, it is a tale as old as time.
Every toddler has argued with the entire universe that they do NOT need a nap. They’re bouncing off walls, rubbing their eyes with angry little fists, yawning so wide their jaw might crack, but when you suggest lying down? Instant rebellion. “No nap! I’m not tired!” they insist, even as their whole body is begging for rest. Everyone around them can see the signs—the crankiness, the clumsiness, the sudden tears over nothing—but the toddler is 100% convinced they can power through. I’ve lived this many times over raising our five children watching them insist they are NOT tired!
That’s no longer my kids. Now it is me now on fatigue days. “I don’t need a nap!” My brain fog rolls in thick, I start dropping words mid-sentence, I get snappy over tiny things, my head feels heavy like it’s full of cotton. My loved ones gently say, “Hey, maybe rest for a bit?” And inside I’m screaming the toddler anthem: I’m fine. I can keep going. I don’t need to stop.
But deep down, I know they’re right. Just like that overtired toddler finally collapses into glorious sleep after fighting it for hours, when I finally give in—curl up, close my eyes, let the world pause—everything softens. The storm quiets. My thinking clears a little. I wake up (or at least rest) and realize, yep… I really did need that.
I used to be the one telling my toddler children they need a nap. Now they help tell me.
What Helps (Toddler-Approved Strategies)
So what do I do when the big feelings hit or the “no nap” battle starts? I borrow from what works for actual toddlers:
Name it simply: “Big feeling.” “Tired brain.” No need for essays.
Give it space: Step away if possible. A quiet corner, dim lights, blanket. My wife helped me set up a quiet space in our room.
Accept help: Let someone else be the calm grown-up who says, “It’s rest time now.” It’s hard and humbling - but every time I’ve listened it has been right.
Celebrate the surrender: When I finally rest without fighting, I tell myself, “Good job listening to your body (and wife and kids ;))”
Recovery isn’t about being perfect or “adult” all the time. It’s about being honest about where we’re at—like toddlers who eventually learn that naps aren’t punishment, they’re recharge magic. They’re something brain injury patients often need in their recovery process.
If you’re in this too, or loving someone who is: be gentle with the emotional storms and the nap resistance. They’re signs the brain is working hard, growing, feeling everything at full volume again. That’s progress, even when it’s messy.
We’re all still learning how to handle the big feelings and when to just lie down. One cranky moment, one reluctant rest, one soft reset at a time.
Maybe like me, you just needed the reminder today that maybe you could use a nap. If you’re fighting it, you probably need it that much more.
With lots of toddler hugs and quiet hope,
Someone who needs a nap today.
