How well do you sleep? Like a baby? A teenager? A parent? Margo Bartlett admits to her sleep habits and offers a tongue-in-cheek look at the topic of slumber.
I keep hearing about sleepmaxxing. Sleepmaxxing, apparently, refers not to getting lots of sleep, but to deriving the most benefit from your sleeping hours.
I feel I’ve gotten the most out of my sleep experience when my dog doesn’t get me up in the middle of the night. He usually does, though. If I turn in at 10, there he is at my side of the bed at 2 a.m., shaking himself and breathing into my face until I settle for the second best sleep experience, which involves getting up, putting him outside, letting him in and, depending on the time, returning to bed or falling asleep on the couch. “I can’t complain,” I say when people ask, and I can’t.
Sleepmaxxing comes easily to children. Children get the most out of sleep as automatically as they blow milk bubbles with a straw. They fall asleep at 7 p.m. and wake up 12 hours later like there’s nothing to it.
Teenagers fall asleep at all hours and wake up the same way. College students, of course, sleep any time. It’s one of the first things they learn on campus.
Parents of babies never sleep, in the sense of “until well-rested and eager to take on the day.” They sleep when they can, meaning they don’t.
Parents of children sleep well (see above), until one of the kids throws up on their pillow and/or their brother. Parents of teenagers could sleep, if they didn’t care where their kids were or what time it was. Those who do care stay up or go to bed, but wherever they are, they’re listening for the sound of the door opening downstairs, the stop at the refrigerator, the steps on the stairs. My teenage daughters would come into our bedroom to say good night, and they never once found me asleep. (They also never caught me hurling myself from the window that looked out on the driveway into bed, either. I consider that good parenting.)
For years, I worked at a daily newspaper – deadlines, long days, and plenty of reasons to lie awake fretting. I started waking up at 4:30 a.m. to run for an hour before work, a schedule that persisted until I left that paper and went to a weekly with reasonable hours, if you didn’t mind never knowing what week it actually was.
I’m freelancing now, and sleep comes easily. I still run, but during daytime hours. I rarely set an alarm; I have that dog.
Many peers are not as lucky. Some go to sleep and wake at what I now consider the appalling hour of 4:30; others lie awake most of the night, rising periodically to read, walk around the house or look out the windows, as if searching for sleep under the dining room table or on the lawn.
When I look at suggestions about sleepmaxxing I think of these friends, wondering if they’ve tried the standard advice: No liquids after 6 p.m. Go to bed earlier. Go to bed later. Make the room dark enough to impress WWII British air raid wardens. Run noise machines.
Taping one’s mouth closed has been suggested. I hesitate to pick arguments, but what if you get a phone call? Sneeze? Need to ask your spouse, “Did you hear that noise?” Call me old school, but I’d try to develop the habit of sleeping with my mouth closed before I resorted to duct tape. It’s easier on the skin.
I do know this: Sleep is a gift. A healthy gift, like a gym membership and a good water bottle.
Getting enough sleep is better than vitamins. It’s better than knowing a lot of questions on Jeopardy! And it’s a whole lot better than running on the driveway an hour before dawn.
I can’t complain.
Margo Bartlett is a freelance writer. She likes coffee, dogs and sleeping until she feels like getting up. Read more from Margo with ‘Stars Wars’ and Grandparenting.
