Colombian Drug...

Yawn, slurp, yawn, slurp… That’s usually how my days start out as I stumble into the office with a cup of coffee in my hand and wiping sleep from my eyes.  I think that getting just too few hours of sleep has become a national obsession and too often we are proud of making it on so few hours, but not today.  I am dragging like a turtle’s tail in quicksand and no matter the concoction I pour into my system; it’s not doing me any good.  Am I doomed to suffer this same fate in a few short months?

The number one complaint I hear from those already burdened with little ones is that I am destined for little to no sleep for the first few months.  Does this mean my life is about to turn upside down?  In a sense yes!

It seems like only yesterday that I was able to sustain myself over long periods of nocturnal bliss be it in celebrating the week’s end at the bars or simply staying up late with friends discussing the eternal non-sensical solutions to life’s difficult problems.  So how is it that I have spiraled so far from that ability to thrive off of underwhelming sleep?  Marriage.

You see, I believe I married a creature that can only be partly explained if you understand the story of Rip Van Winkle.  As I understand it, whilst most little girls played with Barbie and other dolls, Shannon was mystified with the story of Mr. Van Winkle.  You see, Shannon is not a night creature nor is she really a daytime creature as she falls somewhere in between.  She is of the mindset that her best hours involve those precious few hours when she is awake versus normal waking hours for the dead.  After ten years of bliss with her, I believe I have picked up her propensity for lengthy nighttime paradise which has sent me on my downward spiral.

As of late, I have been getting up early in preparation for the early callings of the little one to either feed, change, or soothe back to sleep.  Ok, the only callings that are awakening me now are the callings, or baying, of our three dogs as they whine to go outside.  This pit stop during my sleep cycle is only one reason why the bags under my eyes are packed for a lengthy retreat.

 

These early mornings are not my only undoing; no it is the afternoons that wear on me like a suit of heavy lead.  After lunch, I am only able to pour myself back into my chair to await the closing bell like that of a prize fighter waiting on the 10^th round bell to ring.  So what I am to do?

Obviously, extra sleep is an option but then you run into that slippery slope of when you are getting just enough sleep or the dreadful and oftentimes worse option of oversleeping.  So that option may only work when I can set a relatively predictable schedule which I hear with children is impossible.  Another option would be for me not to get up so early to “excuse” the dogs outside but I believe my flooring would be none too happy and neither would Shannon. 

Bah I say.  I think I’ll just stock up on that magical drug from Columbia and tackle this problem like any junky.  Two cups of coffee in the morning and I am only just beginning to feel that wonderful euphoric feeling and feining for more.  Is there a program at Betty Ford to solve my addiction?