Sleep? Who needs it. Blaming it all on the men in my life...

It seems that I’ve not had a good night sleep for about three decades. And I blame it all on the men in my life. First it was my first born son. Just like any new mommy, I got about 30 minutes of sleep a night. Between feedings, diaper changes and getting up just to make sure he was breathing, I didn’t seem to occupy my bed very often. When he finally was old enough for me to actually attempt to sleep an entire 3 or 4 hours, I was pregnant with his little brother and the cycle began all over again.
Moms were made to sleep with one ear open, and I did just that. I would wake up with every cough, every cry and every request for a glass of water. I soothed bad dreams, read one last story, calmed one last fear and listened to wonderful accounts of amazing ball games. I stayed up way past midnight to bake cupcakes that had to be taken to school the next day (even though they’d known about it for weeks) and spent many a night with David Letterman, putting together last minute touches on science projects. I did laundry at 2am because the baseball uniform wasn’t ready for the big game. I helped address Valentine cards, coached them to memorize words to the Christmas show and tried concoct a witch’s costume late one night so I could be the cool room mom for Halloween.
But it didn’t end when they started sleeping through the night. No, I still didn’t get any sleep. Because then it was waiting for them to get home after the first night having a drivers license. Of listening for the front door to sneak open and click shut because they missed their curfew for the senior prom. I sat waiting for phone calls assuring me they’d arrived safely at camp. And let’s not forget the sleep-overs. Those boys had stamina. They’d stay up all night playing cards and ping pong and video games – grateful for the 2am snack I’d conjure up for the crew. They’d play the movies low, but still I could hear the laughter and the wrestling, long into the wee hours of the morning.
When the bear cubs went away to college or moved out, the entire night sleep scenario didn’t always last. When they came back home, I still slept with one ear open waiting for the front door to close and lock. When they drove back to their respective apartments, I didn’t sleep until I got the “I’m home safe, mom” text.
Even though the kids have all moved out, I still don’t get my beauty sleep. No, now there are other men that impair my potential good night’s sleep. These men are the ones that snore throughout the night. One has two legs, the other has four and lots of fur. They move around, steal covers and generally take up the whole bed.
I wouldn’t trade any of the experiences in my life that have caused me lack of sleep. The joys way out weigh the under eye bags. In fact, sleeplessness seems to have become a habit after all these years, since I have more “men” in my life keeping me awake. Yes, this time it’s the lovely joy of menopause. It’s like having a baby all over again – I wake up automatically at 3am. Instead of the joy of cuddling and feeding my little boys, I am greeted by night sweats and the probability that I won’t fall back asleep until 15 minutes before the alarm is set to go off.
I have calculated that because of all these men in my life, I’ve probably actually only had a week’s worth of a full nights rest for the past 30 years. Most of the men are calming down. And it’s a good thing, because I have three little women in my life that are going to take their place. Thank goodness for menopause – it’s keeping me caught up on my lack of sleep. I will now be already be up at 3am when my granddaughters are visiting and need a drink of water or have a bad dream. Yes, I do believe I can blame these under eye circles on all the men in my life. In all honesty, I wouldn’t trade all the sleep in the world for my life with all my wonderful men. Who needs sleep, anyway? Like the song by Aerosmith says – “I don’t want close my eyes, don’t want to fall asleep – cause I’d miss you, babe – and I don’t want to miss a thing.”