Sleepy

My nephew C, son of the Sassafras Sister, is a sleepy guy (that's him, sleeping while the Yankees play). Actually, it's not that's he's sleepy, it's more that he loves his sleep. In fact, were it not for the fact that he's a product of the Sassafras Sister, I'd think he was the only child to ever welcome going to bed. But I know he's not unique in this regard, because my sister was (is?) the same way. First as a child and now as an adult, KO has always loved her sleep.
As a child, I fought sleep, because it seemed a valuable waste of reading time. The idea of going to bed when there was still light outside was a complete anathema for me. I saw it as the ultimate injustice of childhood and I would not do it. As a teenager, I came to appreciate the joy of sleep. And for most of my adult life, I have been a happy and untroubled sleeper. Especially after I joined my life with another person, I slept well. Then she took up sleeping elsewhere and sleeping became a huge problem for me.

It took me a while to figure out what was happening. I could fall asleep but would wake up, usually around 2 am, and then my mind would fill with anxieties and concerns. Within 20 minutes, I would be fully awake, awash in my misery. A long night would follow until around sunrise when I'd fall fitfully back to sleep. Within an hour or two, I'd be up for the day to try and manage daily life with a child.

I was so overwhelmed anyway that the sleep deprivation just seemed like the icing on the misery cake. To combat the anxiety and sadness that the break-up brought on, in hopes that exhaustion would lend itself to sleep, I took to working out twice a day. That helped to exhaust my body and I'd gratefully fall asleep at the end of the day. But with clockwork precision, I'd wake up at 2 am to anxieties on parade. My mind was apparently not yet tired enough to let me be.

After two weeks, I was utterly overwhelmed. I took to taking Tylenol PM at bedtime. I would fall asleep like a brick. And, blissfully, I'd sleep through the night. There would be some morning haze from the remnants of the TPM, but it was worth it because with actual rest I was better able to cope with my newly re-arranged life. Two years later, and after trying a host of other options, TPM is still my nighttime drug of choice. In this aided fashion, I generally sleep through the night. Every once in a while, I try to break the habit. I have not yet succeeded.

The experience has made me much more aware of sleep. I no longer take an easy rest for granted. I am careful to ensure that JT gets all the sleep he needs. If a student falls asleep in my class or in a study hall, I let them be, in the belief that exhaustion is the master who must be first served. I am a big believer in the power of a 20 minute nap.

And I admire the necessary rest of my nephew C., who knows that sleep is the master of us all.