Sleep

We were having a discussion about sleeping this evening and the variables surrounding what is enough and what is too much.

My husband brings the genetic equivalent of Sominex to the table. Regardless of how many naps or the duration of said nap, he is always ready to catch 40 winks and be none the worse for wear. Even a long nap on a Sunday afternoon does nothing to deter the sleep patterns of his evening slumber. While useful to his side of the household, to me it just seems like bragging. It is
sort of like that statement which says; "Consciousness - that annoying period between naps."
I, on the other hand, can ruin a good night's rest by having a single nap of a hour.

God bless him, my oldest son takes after my sleep patterns and my youngest takes after his fathers'. We discovered this particular unsavory truth over the last couple of days in relation to the oldest son. He had come in from his VERY labor intensive job as a stonemason in a veritable pile of exhausted, sweaty splendor.

Between the amount of dust covering him and the sore and tired muscles that dragged him in from the jobsite, he was indeed worn down to the nub. Feeling that a much deserved nap would help ease the pain of the day, he managed to shower and toss himself into the armchair and spread out across the ottoman for a rest.

Sadly, he discovered the painful truth. Sleep fled later that night like a herd of wild mustangs across an unforgiving landscape. Tossing and turning on a bed now as uncomfortable as a night on rocky ground, the hours ticked by in a slow motion parade that left him more tired in the morning than he had been when his work ended the day before.

If there was some way to tap into the wellspring of all day naps that my husband and oldest son share in order to give a refreshing draught of sleep to the rest of us, it would be great. I have no idea what I could offer them in return. I would be willing to offer the ability to NOT sleep during the day to the two of them and see if they can make use of it. Or perhaps a sense of guilt that they can fall asleep at the drop of a hat.

But alas, we are left with the genetic markers of our biological fates. Baggy eyes and droopy countenance is the price we pay if naptime runs too long.

Maybe someone should look into this and see if there is a government grant made to study this phenomenon. While I don't claim to be a scientist, I did learn about the scientific method in school, so that should be enough.

After all, our tax dollars are supporting the testing of road kill as an alternative fuel source (imagine what THAT exhaust would smell like - GROSS!), so why not fund me with the few million it will take for the first year of human testing on the efficacy of naptime past elementary school.

I can even offer it in a bilingual setting since I know those thoughtful people south of the border practice the time honored and much respected afternoon siesta. Why on earth they would want to come over the border to the land of pills that keep you awake is beyond me entirely.

My eyes are getting heavy even as I sit here. I am hoping to fall alseep fast like the TV commercials promise, but I don't want to take a pill to get there. I worry that if I take those pills I will not only fall asleep, but that I will STAY asleep. Sort of a female version of Rip Van Winkle.

Or make that Rita van Wrinkle.

When I do reach that Nirvana of sleep that is like floating along between the heavens and earth, I have technicolor dreams and sometimes Cinemascope nightmares. Inevitably, whatever flavor of sleep I get is accompanied by enough drool to float out a small fleet of Her Majesty's finest mail ships. I awaken with the imprint of my hand, my wedding ring and my seriously in need of a manicure cuticle prints adorning my face. On lucky days, it is merely the imprint of the comforter and pillowcase on my side of the bed that graces the creases pressed into my face by the sheer effort of wresting a nights' sleep from the Sandman.

Sleep beckons me and I will heed its siren song and take to my blanket for some shut eye. Maybe tomorrow will be the day that I discover the secret to sleeping without regret, remorse or consequence.

If not, there will always be another night for my research.