Sleep depicts my day.
As do so many things; the weather, health and dreaming but sleep is a major contributing factor to the moodiness of one little bird.
I’ve always known the importance of sleep. I learnt the hard way, like so many others. Trying to cram for an exam the night before believing that if I stayed up that little bit longer I would remember that equation despite the fact that it was 1am and I couldn’t even remember what I had eaten for breakfast that morning or boogieing all through the night with the ladies, being so proud of ourselves knowing we survived 7 hours of dance floor time all in our stilettos to then work the next day on my feet being cheerfully psychotic while assisting women with their lingerie choices.
I am definitely not one of the elite sleep members like Margaret Thatcher, Winston Churchill or Donald Trump, who according to a sleep article can effectively produce successful work in demanding roles on only 4 hours of sleep. WTH?
With Mr H currently overseas for work I have had the
privilege opportunity to re-learn the importance of a good night sleep.
I spent the first 24 years of my life sleeping by myself. You get married and all of a sudden starfish sleeping goes out the window. You have to share the space, respect the space and be prepared to slap the space when noises are heard that are not of the good kind but soon enough you fall into a pattern. You may fall asleep in their arms or they in yours, you may sleep close enough to feel them breathing, their hand may be holding yours or perhaps there is some leg drapage or even still you may be butt to butt, no touching is necessary because you are independent sleepers but their warmth encapsulates you just as much as if it were their arms. And slowly you drift off.
I on the other hand have had 8 weeks of wildlife banter, sexual animal antics and cold magnetism. And these are not the type you want to find in the bedroom. There was definitely no role playing going on here. Instead I have been awoken or more like kept awake by the sounds of possum kiss and catch, what sounds like tiny baby elephants on my roof and a few west side story moments – feline style. Then comes the moments that you swear someone is watching you or where you trick yourself into believing that pebbles really can move by themselves and that dolls really do come alive when you close the door behind you. And if it isn’t the noises that keep you awake, it is the manmade night light (a colourful scarf draped over the bedside lamp) that will mess with your REM sleep. Oh and don’t get me started when you roll over to the other side to find that you keep rolling into a bottomless pit of coldness.
Sleep is a wonderful thing. And so is a good amount of sleep at a decent and appropriate time. I can’t wait when I can go to bed at a reasonable hour and rise before lunchtime. I look forward to seeing the sun more than the moon and having my human hot water bottle back. But mostly I look forward too feeling like a recharged bunny; alert, motivated and connected because I’ve had a chance to plug into 8 hours of undisturbed sleep (and for the second pair of ears to help rule out any chucky moments).
So I am thankful for sleep.
**And all you mothers out there – I bow to you – and to my own mother, thank you for giving up sleep for me.