What Time Is It?

I have outgrown being a teenager.  In fact, in many ways, I don't think I ever really was a teenager.  The whole dating world totally baffles me.  And I don't recall being consumed with the need for name-brand clothing, shoes, etc.


But in some ways, I was born a teenager and never really grew out of it.  One of the most blatant examples is my sleeping patterns.


I love staying up until all hours of the night.  Some of my best inspiration comes at 2:00 am when I get that "second wind."  And socializing until the wee hours of the morning is my idea of big fun!

Conversely, I hate, hate, hate getting up early in the morning.  I know many people who get up to exercise, read or just get their morning started long before the sun streaks the sky.  Why?


Clearly my internal clock is on some other time zone.  And every year when we in the Central Time Zone "fall behind" and "spring forward," it takes a good month before I can get my sleep back on track again.


When I had to go to work in the real world, I had to get up and sit in rush hour traffic in the early morning hours with the rest of Nashville.  But I hated it.  And I had to go to bed early to be functional the next day.  And I hated that, too.  My favorite work schedule was when I waitressed until 1:00 am, and then slept until 9:00 am or so.  Unfortunately the pay and benefits of a waitress is not conducive to... well, living.


When I had children, the babies ruled the roost, and the clock.  They had no concept of the fact that real people don't sleep two hours at a time 24/7.  But, we all limped through the early years together.  And when the babies got older, their natural clock put them out like a light at 6:30 pm, which was a nice time for me to catch up on anything I couldn't do while they were awake.  But, then they also naturally woke up at 5:30 am, which to my teen-aged soul was the equivalent to some sort of military torture.


As they turned into children, hubby and I were able to mandate that they could not come into our room, without significant cause involving blood or bones sticking out of the skin, until a certain television show came on that corresponded to about 8:00 am.  Until that time, they were allowed to watch cartoons.  Out of self-preservation, they eventually learned to make cereal and poptarts to eat during the "black out" time.


Now my tweens are on my schedule, finally.  This is wonderful!  Except that now we do have more things to do than we have time to do them.  So, in order to fit them in, we must get up early (read: before 9:00 am).  This makes for an entire family of grumpy folks who long for a nap by lunch.  But at least we're in the same boat, all together.


This morning, I had to get my house daughter (our exchange student from Germany) from a sleep over at 6:45 am.  When she first told me what time she needed to be picked up, I simply blinked at her, refusing to believe she didn't actually mean 10:45.  She laughed at me and said, "No, really.  I need to be picked up at 6:45."


Ugh.  How I wished she could drive as I pulled a coat, hat and shoes over my pajamas and slid behind the wheel.  The temperature was 22 degrees and the frost on the windshield was an inch thick.  It took a good 10 minutes for the car to warm up.  I was happy- NOT.


Once she was in the car, I chided her, "Ready to get home and go jogging?"


She glared at me.  "I only slept for one hour last night."


I grunted something back and went back to concentrating on the road.


"How about we get dressed and go ahead out to the shopping malls?" I smiled wickedly.  Yes, I am grumpy AND immature when I'm tired.


She glared again and grunted something at me.


We rode home the rest of the way in silence.  She stumbled through the door, went to her room and immediately fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.


I didn't.


I was awake.  Unable to go back to sleep.  Unable to clean, because I'll wake everyone up.  Unable to watch television because of the same. 


So I got on my computer and fumed and pouted.  Then I thought, "Hey!  I'll bet everyone wants to hear my whining!" (LOL)  So, here I am, telling you my woeful tale.


I guess there are many stereo types of things, like teen agers, floating around that we buy into.  But every part of each stereo type doesn't necessarily apply to a person.


I'm not the stereo typical "soccer mom" to a tee.  I'm not everything people think about a pastor's daughter.  People don't look at me and automatically think that I'm an insurance agent.  And I don't think anyone who doesn't know me could guess I have teen aged tendancies when it comes to sleep.


But, now you know.  And now you also know not to call my house before 9:00 am on a weekend without it being a life-threatening emergency.  


I hope you all have a wonderful, RESTFUL, weekend!