Sweet Deep Sleep

Today is Groundhog's Day.  When I think of this day though my first thoughts are not of the groundhog and his shadow, or lack there of.  Instead I'm reminded of the movie and the scene where Bill Murray's character wakes up to the annoying radio DJ's voice, slams the alarm with his arm, and starts the same day all over again. 

I certainly can relate to the annoying alarm clock, although knowing how much I dislike them, my hubby puts it on his side.  Some mornings, I have to admit, I don't even hear it go off.  Tim awakes so easily, he quickly snoozes it, allowing me another ten minutes of blissful sleep.

I haven't always been such a deep sleeper.  Motherhood prevents that.  When your children are babies, and even toddlers, you seem to constantly be in a state of half consciousness.  I don't believe I ever fully went to sleep those first few years, always on edge and ready to pounce out of bed at their first whimper.  As they grew older though and needed me less at night, my sleeping became deeper.  This also only happens because my husband is just the opposite.  A feather could fall two rooms away and he's awake.  The good thing is, being a lifetime firefighter, he can drift right back to sleep.  I'm not so lucky.

Overtime I've developed the ability to put myself in such a deep sleep, Tim can leave for a fire run and I won't know it.  I do this because if I and when I do fully wake up, I'm up for good.  If he's on a run, I am up to worry and pray for his safe return.  If something else awakens me, it's nearly impossible to go back to sleep.  I toss, I turn, and then reluctantly retreat to the living room.  From there I'll read, write, catch up on tv or whatever else is necessary hoping sleepiness returns, provided there is even enough time to do so.  Often, it just means a very early day for me, and thus, the coffee pot becomes my friend.

I'm not sure how I taught myself to become a deep sleeper but it is a neat trick.  I don't do anything special.  No eye masks or headphones.  No white noise or sleeping aids.  Nor did I line my bedroom walls with empty egg cartons like we did in grade school.  (Funny side note.... our school was one giant circle with no real walls, just bookcases. You could toss paper airplanes across the top of them into another class.  As such, teachers would line their bookshelves with empty egg cartons we brought in to act as a bit of a sound barrier.  It worked!)  For me, I think it's just survival mode.  My body needs sleep.  It knows I must go way, way down to stay there and so I just do. 

Tim laughs because even though I go into this deep sleep, I can still often carry on conversations.  Sometimes I am just acting out my dream, but other times, he can get me to cross over and talk to him.  He'll softly prod me with questions, giggle-whispering from whatever random answers I may give.  Noah pokes fun too, as sometimes if he comes in mid-night, I'll answer whatever he needs but have no knowledge in the morning.  Future roommates I may have someday - don't use this information against me!

This post may seem a little random but it was on my mind, a result from GH day and hearing from a friend who was having trouble sleeping a new neighborhood.  As such, this story was shared.  Perhaps, if anything, it'll provide good bedtime reading and bore you into a sweet deep sleep!