Tuesday, March 15, 2011


Buongiorno! I'm currently away from all things ordinary, on an Italian adventure for work and for play. Unsure about what my internet-time-coherence factor would be during the trip, I prepared a few of my own favorite posts from days of yesteryear for your recycling pleasure. Andiamo!  

Monday, May 26, 2008

Sleeping In

Teenagers know how to sleep in. I remember weekends when it was noon before the household was graced with my sparkling presence. Now that was sleep - deep, dark, drooling sleep. It was physically painful to have to get up on school days. I could justify anything to sleep a little longer – I don’t need a shower! Breakfast is for chumps! I’m sure mom won't mind driving me if I’m a little late. I would have promised my first-born child in exchange for just five more minutes.

In college, my night owl tendencies had the perfect avenue. I could stay out late or just stay up late reading, and then sleep the better part of the day away. That’s why God made afternoon classes.

When I became a parent, everything changed. Never before had I understood the special psychosis of sleep deprivation. This is when I got really good at sleeping. I perfected the ability to fall asleep on the way down to my pillow, and I learned how to elicit a full night’s rest out of any solid 3 hour block of sleep.

After years of being roused by early rising children, I now have the luxury of sleeping in again, but my body defies me. I’ve forgotten how!

I am not a morning person; I’m not one of those people who is up and at ‘em at 6 am. I never see 6 am unless I set the alarm, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve been forced to do that. I wake up at 7. 7 is good, 7 works for me. I can still stay up late and enjoy the quiet household – I usually watch the 11:00 news and about half of Letterman (which is starting to suck, but that’s a story for another day) before I go to bed. 7 gives me enough time to drag the snarling children out of their cozy beds and facilitate the eating and dressing and packing of lunches and backpacks and whatever drama there is to be tackled on any particular day. We’re usually only 3-5 minutes late for school. They totally enable me, but that’s another story for another day.

On weekends, I like to think I’ll sleep in. Except on Saturdays, when I try to make it to the 8:30 kickboxing class. So on Sundays, I like to think I’ll sleep in. Yesterday was Sunday, I had stayed up for Saturday Night Live and made a conscientious plan to sleep in.

So 7:00 comes, and I wake up.

I refuse to open my eyes.

I have to pee………… but I don’t.

I start thinking… and I try to make myself stop.

Coffee……. NO, sleep.

Sunday paper………. NO, sleep.

Did my favorite shitheads post their weekend blog?..... NO, sleep.

Whose turn is it to blog next? NO, sleep.

Oh, it’s me! What should I write about? I had a thing in mind about babysitting, or going to concerts… what should I wear to the concert? Memorial Day – the Cronins’ picnic, or our old house and the stuff in boxes in my garage, oh my god the garage, I need to call AmVets, how are we ever going to sell this house? We need to get someone out to look at that bathroom; I wish we were handier. Maybe we could do some of it, how bad it would be if I just starting pulling that shower thing off the wall…………….wait, wait, WAIT – NO! SLEEP!
So I decide to get up and pee, and then go back to sleep.

I’m comfortable now, drink of water. Ahhhhh. I love this bed.

I use the meditation chants I learned last year from that cool monk….
what was his name?
Man, those people knew how to relax.
And they were so happy and peaceful and still.
I want to be a monk.

I remember the song, first word inhale, second word exhale






This really works. I’m drifting off. .....in.....out....deep

Then I hear the dreaded sound of a bedroom door opening
.....free……slow……calm……. I hear my girl in the bathroom,
then I hear her come into my room
She’s standing right in front of me,
6 inches from my face to see if I’m awake
……..moment……..wonderful…… moment....
I feel myself starting to twitch –
if she knows I’m awake I am doomed.
I kick it into high (slow) gear….


It must have worked because my next conscious thought is that she’s gone, and I hear my husband yelling back and forth with her about what’s for breakfast.

Ahhh, I did it! I slept in! And the family managed to get through the morning without me and I’m going to feel so great to have banked this extra sleep!

Wow, those monks are good, that really worked!

I feel so refreshed!

I stretch languidly and squint at the clock.

It’s 7:08


Me, You, or Ellie said...


I hope you're not getting tons of sleep in Italy because that would be a waste of wine-drinking time. Not to mention boot-buying time.

Ciao, bella.


Beth said...

Oh I how I love this. And oh, how I agree that those monks are so good at that slow, calm stuff. Even if it did only get you to 7:08. I mean, 8 minutes is 8 minutes, right?

But I agree with Ellie, no time to sleep right now -- keep buying boots and drinking wine and eating everything and flirting with those Italian men.