I treasure my sleep. I was born that way. My mom tells me that I was an easy sleeper from day one. As a baby, I went to bed by 7:30 p.m., and slept a full twelve hours. I had two naps of about two hours each. When I went to kindergarten I liked nap time lying on my little towel on the ground. (I don't think they do that anymore), and even occasionally came home from school and had another nap.
My sister Cheryl came along two years after me. Not such a sleeper, I hear. I remember being resentful that I had a nap, and she didn't. The resentment only lasted until I fell asleep. Then in third grade, the crowning injustice: I had to go to bed a full half an hour earlier than my first grade sister! My mom's not so soothing remark: she doesn't need the sleep, you do.
I am naturally a morning person. So getting to bed early is my cup of tea. In high school and college I had some late nights, but nothing drastic. No one wants to be around me when I don't have enough sleep, so I had to balance a social life with people still wanting to socialize with me.
Then I had children.
I became obsessed by the amount of sleep I was getting at night - or not getting, depending on the night. From the minute I lay my head on the pillow I knew just how much sleep I was going to get that night. Every time I had to get up with a child, I automatically subtracted that time from my original amount. Now I'm only going to get six hours of sleep! Now I'm only going to get five hours and 23 minutes of sleep! etc. etc. I don't think my math has ever been so accurate before or since in my life.
Finally, no more children waking me up all night long. Then age factors set in. I lie in bed, looking at the clock, going through the same mathematical processes as when babies were getting me up. So when I get a full night's sleep, and also manage to sleep in, it is a great night.
Last night I went to bed early. Drugged by my Herculean strength prescription cough syrup. I woke up a few hours later, very briefly. I had some interesting, perhaps somewhat drug-induced thoughts. I felt as though I were wrapped in a very warm cocoon, and I did not want to move a muscle. I thought, this must be how Ray felt! (Background: when Ray O had his surgery, as he was coming out of his anesthetic, he said to me: I think I could enjoy doing drugs. This feels great! I said: All the effects are not worth it, and you could never afford it (a little joke). He replied: Oh, I would just do recreational drugs, you know at a club or something. But no need to worry, mom, I would first have to overcome my great fear of clubs!) Then I remembered when I had jaw surgery and they tried to rouse me from the anesthetic. I argued with the nurse, begging her to just let me continue sleeping as long as possible. That's probably how Ray felt too.
I lay there wondering if I never opened my eyes, would this warm feeling stay forever? Finally my bladder spoke up and I realized I'd better dash to the bathroom. Then I wondered, if I keep my eyes closed the whole time will I be able to get back to sleep more easily? Quickly my real brain stepped in and I realized that was taking my life in my hands. Let's just say my room is not as neat as it could be. So I got up, and when I went back to bed, I went right back to sleep.
Except for that brief interlude, last night I got a full 12 hours of sleep. Thank you cough syrup! Good thing there are no refills on it. And for sure I won't share it with Ray.
This book and a certificate were my graduation awards from Travelin'Oma's School Days seminar that I did last fall.
