Who Needs Sleep?

From the Bare Naked Ladies Song "Who Needs Sleep"

Lids down, I count sheep
I count heartbeats
The only thing that counts is

that I won't sleep

I countdown, I look around

Who needs sleep?
well you're never gonna get it
Who needs sleep?
tell me what's that for
Who needs sleep?
be happy with what you're getting
There's a guy who's been awake
since the Second World War

My hands are locked up tight in fists
My mind is racing, filled with lists
of things to do and things I've done
Another sleepless night's begun

Seems that sleep has always been a somewhat fleeting phenomenon around the Pandora household. As a kid, I suffered occasional bouts of insomnia, whenever something exciting like going back to school was on the horizon. My husband was such an insomniac that he almost burned his house down as a child, reading with a lamp under a flammable 1970's blanket. (Yes, he's older than I am).

In college, I would routinely be up until 2, 3, 4 5AM every night. Every morning, as I dragged my butt to class (or didn't) I would promise myself that I would go to sleep at a reasonable hour that night. Every night I would fall well shy of keeping that promise, as some drama or other always seemed to beckon my attention.

As a young couple, many of our deepest and most passionate conversations took place in the wee hours of the morning, when most people were fast asleep. Our insomnia was an aphrodisiac of sorts - we fell in love because no one else was awake. The night we met, we talked for 36 hours straight. Then we napped for about 2 hours, then went our separate ways for the day.

Our first date started at 10PM one night, took us to Denny's, Walmart and the beach, finally ending at 7:30AM, when he could no longer put off leaving for work. And 100% of that time was "pre-intimacy". All talk, no action.

Pregnancy, though planned, took us by surprised. The overwhelming exhaustion of the first trimester was horrifying, as I became essentially narcoleptic. No matter how badly I wanted to regain my swerve after that, I just couldn't. The sun went down, and so did I.

When our first child was born, we learned how to operate on the worst kind of sleep - interrupted sleep. Many a night were spent jolting in and out of the jagged kind of sleep that comes from keeping one ear open for the inevitable cried that will rouse you from your slumber ever hour or so. The boy never slept for more than 2 hours at a clip. For the first 10 months of his life, he ate every hour and a half to two hours, round the clock.

When our daughter was born, she was a sleeper. Right out of the hospital, she slept an unbelievable 5 hours at a clip, ate, then put herself back to sleep. Right up until the very moment that I went back to work. Within less than a week, she started sleeping through the day and nursing through the night, as she deemed all bottles entirely objectionable.

We co-slept for most of the next year.

Finally, once our kids hit the year and a half and 3 year mark, both of them were sleeping soundly, for 12 hours a night. And we were free to go back to our own insomniac ways. Admittedly, having kids cured me of much of the night owl ways that I used to hold so dear. Days left running from work to mommy mode left me longing for bed sometime around midnight every night, which was like turning in when the sun was still up to my former self.

Now, with the kids 6 and 8, we suddenly have a sleep problem. The boy, it seems has developed an acute case of insomnia out of NOWHERE. He was fine. A regular Rip Van Winkle, for the last 5 years. Both kids had adopted the wonderful habit of sleeping for 10-12 hours, regardless of the time that you put them down. If they went to bed at 8, they would be up around 7. If they were up until 10, they were out until at least 8:30.

All of this suddenly changed for the boy on Sunday, January 3rd. He simply could.not.sleep. No matter what he tried, he was UP. Attempts to fall asleep were fruitless. Any slumber that he did drift off to, quickly interrupted. This went on until the wee hours of the morning. He finally succumbed to a good, deep sleep around 5AM. Just in time for his alarm to go off at 7:30. Needless to say, we missed the bus that morning.

The next night was even worse, with him in hysterics because he was so worked up over his inability to fall asleep.

That morning I took to Twitter and Facebook with my sleep deprived angst over what to do. I was greeted with a plethora of suggestions, ranging from giving him melatonin to rubbing him down with lavender. There were suggestions of massage, meditation and letting him read.

We decided to let him read. Which seemed to work. Sort of.

The first night with the lamp and the book he was asleep for good around 1AM.

The next night it was closer to 11:30PM.

The next night he was up about eleventy million times, but then Saturday night, he was asleep by 9:10PM and slept straight on through until about 8AM.

So we thought we were finally in the clear last night.

Not even close.

So now I ponder, what is at the root of the problem. Is something bothering him (he says no)? Or has he just inherited insomnia from dear old mom and dad? Do I move on to something more radical, like giving him melatonin, or do we just whether the storm, remain calm and keep the pressure off until his body regulates itself again?

This is the part of parenting that stinks.

The Nature of Friendships and the Happiness Project

Recently, a blogger that I follow closely has blogged that she intends to embark upon a personal happiness project. I am not entirely sure what that means, but then, neither is she and as she has admitted repeatedly, she is making it up as she goes along. The first part of her project included creating a list of the 10 things that she likes most about her new, adopted hometown. At the end of her list was her group of friends, which are the reason that she and her family moved to the city that she now lived in. She qualified it by saying that although it was not truly about her hometown per say, she would be remiss to omit them. She then left an invitation to link your own "Top 10" about your hometown.

Which got me to thinking...

I love it here. I really do. And I am fairly certain that I could rattle off 10 highpoints with no problem whatsoever. The biggest part for me though really is the friends that I have made in the last 3 years, since moving here. I have some of the best, most fulfilling friendships that I have ever had in my whole life with the people that I count as friends here.

And I mean no disrespect to any of the friends that I have that are not from here. If you are still around, you are obviously an important and special part of my life. No, the "old" friends to whom I will be referring are, generally speaking, not really a part of my life any more.

I am the only child of an only child. I have step siblings, with whom I am close and I refer to them as my siblings, but as a kid, I was definitely by myself. Singletons have a different sensibility about us, as so many of our earliest experiences dealing with people are with adults. What this translated to for me was that any time one of my girlfriends and I would fight, and ugly words were exchanged, I took those words at their face value. After all, when a grown up says something to you, generally they mean it! I just assumed that rule applied to everyone. More than once, statements from my best friend that she never wanted to speak to me again sent me home in tears, convinced that she never wanted to speak with me again. My surprise was palpable when she would start talking to me again, the next day at school, as though nothing had ever happened.

For about as long as I can remember now, the friends that I have had have been great. Fun, funny, smart ladies (and gentlemen) that I really cared a great deal for. Funny thing though, nearly without exception, they have all been friends that, if I did not call them, I would not hear from them. With the sole exception of when they specifically needed something, every interaction that we have had, every plan that we have made, nearly every conversation that we have ever had has been initiated by me. If I stopped calling, there simply would be no friendship. I tested this more than once and in some cases am still waiting for that elusive phone call nearly 4 years later.

Today, not quite 3 years after moving to PA, I am truly blessed. I have made friends and all of these friendships are true give and take friendships. They call me as often as I call them. Heck, sometimes, when I am having a bad week, they call more often. When they call, it is not just because they need something, rather it is just because. And I cannot even begin to tell you how awesome that is. Having always been the initiator for so many years, I found that I became reticent to ask to do anything, for fear that I would become a pest. Today I don't think twice about calling up any of my girlfriends and saying "Hey, wanna get lunch?"

So if I were to make a list of the top 10 things I love about this town, you had better believe that my friends would take up quite a few of those spots!

Overheard at Dinner

From the six year old girl child:

"I have a plan, and eeeeviiiiillll plan."

Greeeeaaaattttt....I can hardly wait for the teenage years.

Why Being Nosey Never Pays

So I have been keeping myself busy doing some freelance writing. Its an interesting opportunity that provides me with constant need to educate myself about new and different topics. Everyday I will get a pack of 5-15 articles on a particular topic or topics that I need to write 400 word articles about. Typically, these packs include a website that I will be writing for, so that I can see what point of view or position I should be supporting. When I receive these packs, my first step is always to check the link, to make sure that it is working.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago. The general topic for my articles was improving your married sex life. A little more risque than I had been assigned before, but heck, I'm a grown up, I can hack it. I checked the link, and it worked...it brought up a website called "Why Am I in a Sexless Marriage?" Not surprisingly, it featured pictured of vibrators and dildos and such. Since the kids were home, I quickly clicked on another tab, effectively leaving the images buried, and then rushed out the door with the girl child to go to Daisies.

That left the boy and his dad at home. Alone.

Apparently the hubbers needed to use my computer for something. And saw my tabs.

The next day, I called him, and he asked "Why?", I replied that I was thinking of him. Again, he asked "Why, what did you do??". I replied "Nothing really, just the articles that I am writing today are making me giggle."

"Oh, why? What are they about?"

"Improving your married sex life."

"Oh THANK GOD!!! I thought we maybe needed to have a talk or something."

And that should teach him to snoop.