Sleepytime in Oreland

Yawn.

Just woke up from a long nap—which would be fine, except it’s now 10 PM. Plus: I still have two hours to finish this post before the clock strikes midnight and my laptop turns into a pumpkin (and if that happened then my hands would have all that seedy gunky stuff on them as I typed). Minus: once again, my sleep schedule is all topsy-turvy. Now, why I’m napping so much, Lord only knows—I am getting VERY little exercise, even with a daily stroll around the neighborhood. But my body is behaving as if I’ve just returned from a flight to Timbuktu (incredibly jet-lagged). And the other adults in the house are similarly groggy, often sprawled on chairs and sofas, snoozing away at odd hours.

If only Aiden and Peter had gotten the memo! Then we’d all be blissfully Sleeping Beauties, dozing through the next several weeks, until awakened at last by the kiss of—well, I guess it’d have to be the kiss of Governor Wolf, right?  announcing that we no longer have to ”shelter in place”? As I have no particular desired to be kissed by Governor Wolf (or ANY local, state or federal official for that matter), this is a bad metaphor! But I digress…

Our resident 5 and 3 year olds are full of vim and vigor these strange days, from early til late. Even though their Baba and Mama make sure they’re outside playing ball in the back yard, or riding their bikes in the driveway, several times daily, the boys still have (tons of) energy to spare. Aside from their extreme youth, I think the main difference is that they really have no idea what’s going on in the world, hence are not intentionally escaping the existential madness via lots of extra sleep. Oh, to be carefree Aiden and Peter!

I was never a napper—not as a baby (according to Mom), not as a child, not as an adult. Napping was the unattractive thing Pop Cunningham did on the porch at Normandy Beach on summer afternoons—mouth agape, snoring loudly, newspaper pages scattered across his lap. Ugh! I much preferred to be up up up, sharp as a tack and ready to go at all times! The few occasions I did slumber during the day (such as during my bout with scarlet fever in sixth grade), I would wake up crabby and disoriented and the opposite of refreshed.

Now, I married a Champion Power Napper. Steve relies on his daily 10-20 minutes of shut eye for the second wind that propels him through his very productive evenings. I’ve heard that the length of the nap is key—shorter is better, waking before falling into the next, deeper level of sleep . I wouldn’t know, as I have no personal experience with the Power Nap. Once I’m out, I’m out for hours—which is why the whole idea of napping has never had appeal.

Until now.

Yawn.

Is it May yet?