Their sleeping patterns are like night and day
Lori Clinch
When it comes to sleeping habits, my beloved spouse and I have never really seen eye to eye.
I like to sleep in, he likes to wake up early. I like to fluff my pillow; he likes to pour the coffee. I enjoy a good slumber; he likes to put in a full day’s work before 8 a.m.
He’s famous for being showered and shaved before the crack of dawn as I lie in bed and pretend he doesn’t exist.
He has even been known to ask me – as I stir at 6 a.m. – if I am, and I quote, “Up for all day.” It’s painfully obvious that our circadian rhythms are all out of whack.
Despite our slumbering differences, we’ve managed to maintain a healthy marriage by mutual respect. He lets me sleep past 5 a.m. and I let him enjoy a nag-free morning.
Still, our sleeping habits aren’t without challenges. Take, for example, his alarm clock. With the dawn of each new day, the serenity of the house is shattered as that dang thing blares out the agriculture report at a volume that makes my mojo spring into action.
Although I’d like to nestle in my pillows, although I’d like to fluff the blankets and cover my head, the sound of his radio has become all but impossible to drown out.
And that man doesn’t just wake to music like the rest of us. He doesn’t listen to Bob and Tom or other local DJs offer up idle chit-chat. No sir, my husband is a learning man and his wake-up shows are educational.
He likes to listen to the Proficient Carpenter discuss framing techniques. He enjoys being attentive as the financial gurus of the world mull over stock reports. Worse yet, my darling husband has been known to tune in the Master Gardener and listen with great interest as this great botanist lectures how a little more human urine on one’s begonias is sure to give any amateur gardener a green thumbs up.
I kid you not.
There was a day when I could have slept through that. There was a time when I could have ignored my husband’s bright and happy attitude. Back in the day, I could have disregarded that man’s early morning whistle and the fact that he is fully caffeinated by 6 a.m. But lately, and for reasons we may never understand, my husband hasn’t been able to sleep and has decided to entertain himself by waking me at 3 a.m. to tell me so.
“Lori,” he whispered in my ear in the wee hours of a recent morning. “Lori, what are you doing?”
I could have simply told him I was sleeping, but since I was nestled in a fetal position on my right side with covers all about me, I felt the answer was obvious. So instead of dignifying his question with an answer, I lay still and feigned a doze.
“Lori,” he persisted, “Lori, are you awake?”
I added in a subtle snore to convince him further. I mumbled a faux utterance under my breath and pretended to have a one-way conversation with someone in a dream. Not being one to give up easily, Pat then gave me a nudge. The man is nothing if not persistent.
“What do you want?” I asked as I shot up in the bed.
“I was wondering if you’re awake.”
“No! I’m sound asleep!”
“Oh,” he then paused long enough for me to think that he’d given up before he added, “because I can’t sleep.”
Now, I’m nothing if not a sympathetic person. If you have pain, I’m your gal. Troubles? Give me a shout. But if you can’t sleep and I can? Well-ell! You are so on your own. I think it goes without saying that when it comes to shut-eye, it can and should be every sleeper for himself or herself.
I don’t know if insomnia is contagious, but I caught it just the same. Now he flips and I flop, he snores and I listen, I roll over and I’ll be danged if he doesn’t put his knees right where I had planned to put mine. Last night’s restlessness left the bed in shambles and totally messed with my psyche. I tried my best to sleep in, but was unable to doze through the Master Gardener’s instructions for grub removal.
As we sat at the breakfast table at 6 a.m., I was anything but chipper. Meanwhile, Pat was showered, shaved, and whistling like a happy stinking morning bird.
“It’s fun to be up early like this,” he asked with a wink and a smile, “don’t you think?”
There isn’t enough caffeine in the world to get a person’s mojo through that.
Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book “Are We There Yet?” You can reach her at www.loriclinch.com.