Sleeping around

Somewhere back in my early childhood before I started going to school, I had a habit that distressed my mother. 

Struck by the realization my parents were staying up way past my bedtime I made it my mission to find out why. It took a few nights, but I finally outlasted them. I lay awake in my bed until I heard them go off to their room. Then I would sneak out of my bed and find toys to play with. Apparently, Mom was a light sleeper because she was soon up and shooing me off to bed again. This went on a few nights, my parents were shaken enough by it to take me to the family doctor. Please understand, back then there were no extraneous medical visits. Near death and devastating illnesses were the baseline qualifiers for seeking medical attention. What the doctor recommended or prescribed is lost to me now, but after the visit I started sleeping in until  9 or 10 a.m., practically a whole day in farmer time. I have to say,  I’ve been blessed with a lifetime of good sleep. There have also been some additional unwanted sleeping experiences.

My parents got a divorce when I was a teenager. My little brothers stayed with Mom and I ended up living with Dad and Jean. Things happened to me more quickly then. By the first week at my new school I started going steady with a boy. Dad was less than happy about that and tried to encourage me to be more active in other endeavors. There was a balancing act of allowing weekly date nights with curfews combined with  time spent at home by myself or girlfriends. 

Dad had a day job at the Department of Corrections and Jean worked nights at a family owned Dine Bar called Kinney’s. It had a unique atmosphere of fine dining on one side and a bar on the other. It drew a large weekend crowd with customers, even with reservations, waiting three deep at the bar until their tables were ready. The dining room was a bit rustic with wood panelled walls, a large fireplace, and antiques scattered about. I remember a large portrait of the local bank president who had been shot and killed by Johnny Dillinger, the notorious Depression Era bank robber. The restrooms on the bar side had a long hallway with walls full of bawdy art and sayings one would generally see on bar napkins. The customers were generally middle aged professionals and local society figures. There were even celebrities from summer stock theatres from Dayton and Cincinnati. 

Jean waited tables in the dining room and Dad tended the small bar on the dining room side. When we first started dating, the boy would meet me there before opening time at 5 o’clock. He had to have me back by 11:00. I would hang around while my parents worked and wait for closing, usually after 2 a.m. It was a safe and fun adult atmosphere that teenage me enjoyed. 

It was a small Ohio town that offered little entertainment for teens on a budget. Most of our dates were spent at his house with his single mom and two younger siblings. We usually ate pizza and watched TV. I was looking forward to our winter break. My curfew had been extended to 12:00. There was talk of more date nights being permitted during the break time as well as a family trip to see Jean’s son stationed down at the Norfolk Naval Station. 

We had settled in for a typical date night, except for the extra hour that proved to be my undoing.

It was winter and it had been dark for hours. Everyone was tired from the week’s and the day’s activities. The siblings didn’t like our TV viewing choices and had gone to their rooms and fallen asleep. More likely they had been enticed to do so by the boy so he could have more time alone with me. Sensing that, his mom stayed in the living room with us. It was a small apartment. I was glad for her company. In the future, she would become my mother-in-law and I would grow to love her and pine away for her when we were living far from home. Meanwhile, I appreciated her chaperoning us and foiling all the ploys of her son. Aggravated with the results of the evening, he stretched out on the floor in front of the black and white TV set. She and I could now get more comfortable with our individual seats in the chair and sofa. We were all so cozy. We fell asleep. 

Sometime after 2 a.m. we were all roughly awakened by the loud and  ferocious pounding on the front door. Someone was shouting my name. There was only the light from the TV casting grey shadows about the room. I didn’t immediately know where I was. Then I did. Oh my God! It’s Dad! It’s late! I was supposed to have been at Kinney’s over two hours ago! The boy and his mom were getting their bearings too. She called out, “Coming.” 

She opened the door and in rushed my dad. He was infuriated. Back then, there were no cell phones. In fact, at the time the boy’s family didn’t even have a house phone. My dad, stuck at work, had no way to contact us. Why was I late? Had I run off? Had there been an accident? Was I being openly defiant? With the extended curfew, was this an immediate example of give them an inch and they will take a mile?

There was so much unfamiliar shouting, I couldn’t hear anything. It felt like Dad had flown into the room and we had vaporized into the car parked outside the door. Jean was in the front seat. I climbed into the back. I mean that literally. It was a big car, but it was a two-door. On the ride home, disappointment was expressed by my dad. He also mandated an in-house grounding sentence for the entire winter break. Not fair! I quietly cried all the way home. 

Years later, when I was the single mom of two there was also sleeping in front of the TV.

It didn’t involve any dating. We had one set and by now color TVs were commonplace. We even had cable TV with a plethora of programs to select. Many too many. There were arguments. But moms outrank the kids. That didn’t stop my daughter from nagging me though. Until, her little brother took her aside and explained how things really work. 

“Let her have way, and the sooner the better. If we time it right and get her settled in, she’ll be asleep on the sofa before the show starts. Then we can change the channel.”

Works every time!

A few years later with a couple of teenagers on my hands and me single again, I found an even more cunning way to sleep.

Back then, like too many people I was simply squeezing too much into my days and weeks. Exercising before work and during lunch and after work. Carpooling, volunteering, parenting, running a house, and dating. I was typically going to bed between 10 p.m. and 1 a.m.. Every morning I got up at 4:45. I needed more sleep! 

Work was 20 minutes away on the highway, or I could take the back streets with several traffic lights and have more time to get home. I chose the back streets. I was so tired. During rush hours we could stop and wait in line at so many traffic lights! I loved the traffic lights. It’s difficult to envision now, but drivers in the South were reluctant to use their car horns and were more passive. This was played to my advantage. I drove a stick shift. At the red light, I put it in neutral and pulled on the emergency brake, and took short naps. Cars would quietly wait, sometimes for several light changes, or angrily go around. I could get in over 5 minutes at a time, maybe more. Do the math. I could squeeze in an accumulated revitalizing nap by the time I got home and began my real job as single-mom. 

Happily, that kind of pace didn’t go on indefinitely and my life changed into a less hectic schedule. 

Nowadays, my days are my own. I still like to get up early. Not as early as 4:45, but earlier than most people and I’m still blessed with good night sleeps. 

A few years ago when Star Wars: The Force Awakens was new and being seen in theatres, I was  single again with a teenage daughter. Her father was treating us to go see it. Our local theatre is so nice with big and comfy recliner seats. The film was so popular we could only get tickets for the 10 p.m. show. Knowing me, they asked repeatedly if I could stay awake. Get it, stay awake for the Awakening? I assured them I could. I prepped for it. I took a nap that day like people do for Pesach seders. I was ready. I drank espresso in the afternoon. That should do it.

I really wanted to see the movie. I didn’t want to wait a week for an earlier show. One of my favorite characters is Han Solo and he was in this one. What fun! I was looking forward to it.

We got there and settled in with our daughter between us. The chairs are big enough to feel like you are in a room by yourself. When it’s dark all attention is on the screen anyway. I started out strong and lasted a good while. My daughter would glimpse over to check on my alertness. I had this.

Then it started to happen. That tender wave of relaxation. I was drifting in and out of awakeness. Near the end I woke up. Very little of the plot at that point made sense to me. No one knew I had fallen asleep. I had pulled off the deception. Pride prevented me from letting them know I had missed much of the movie.

I paid for that!

On the ride home, the movie was the topic of conversation. Groggy, it was difficult for me to cleverly steer the talk away from the rehashing. And then it happened. My life’s biggest and saddest SPOILER ALERT!

 Wait! What! Noooooo! 

I was heartbroken on many levels. I still refused to let them know I had fallen asleep or to tell them what pain they were causing me now. 

The next day, I stole away and sat in the cinema alone and watched the movie and sobbed.

Later that day, I shared where I had been and we all had a good laugh. 

Sweet dreams.

May your sleep be restorative and may you be awake for the best parts.

(The End.)

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