Home

About Homedaddy

Archives

Subscribe

Tell A Newspaper

Contact

Music

Publisher's Area

Notes From the Sleep-Deprived

The greatest gift you can give your children is to stay awake through most of their childhood, although this is turning out to be easier said than done. It never used to be an issue, back in the days of Newborn Euphoria, back before I learned the awful truth: Babies are easy ... children are hard.

When Emma was first born I felt as though the rest of my life had been a dream, and I was now living in a more vivid reality. Little did I realize that this process would not stop. These days, I feel so hyper-aware that it makes Emma's infancy seem like an old grainy newsreel.

With each day, everything becomes so much more focused that it doesn't seem possible. I wake up thinking "Please, no more, no closer, I am aware of plenty, I can make out the detail just fine," but no; it's as though the big focus ring on the lens of the universe gets nudged again and some additional unnecessary but compelling details pop into view.

I can remember feeling like there was a lot going on; like I had no time to get anything done. Ha ha ha, that was back in the days of yore when Emma took two naps a day. Two naps! What a luxury! Why, the things I could do with an extra hour in the morning! I could earn a real estate license, or a home-study graduate degree. I could rake the leaves and fix the fence, I could become an artist. I'd take a class in Figure Drawing, learn how to draw some figures. I'd say six figures ought to do it.

On second thought, maybe I'd just take a nap too. Maybe this over-aware state which a friend of mine calls "Tracking The World" is nothing more than a symptom of sleep deprivation. Yeah, that's what I need, that's the answer ... more sleep!

In my dreams, I guess. In the meantime, the solution is coffee, although the stuff I brew at home is actually more of a paste than a solution. I am a coffee snob, and usually strive to grind freshly roasted beans and brew a little pot of espresso, a concentrated tincture of caffeine guaranteed to get my attention when it most needs getting. It's so thick that when I get tired of drinking it I just massage some into my temples.

Oddly enough, fancy coffee doesn't get me as jittery as the really cheap stuff, the kind that tastes like volcanic ash mixed with scalding brown water and is traditionally served in styrofoam cups. If you want to get wired, forget espresso; the Workingman's Blend will have you thrumming like a tuning fork after a cup and a half. I just need a boost, not the night terrors, so I stick to the quality beans.

Since the only time left in my day to write this column is usually between the hours of four and six AM, it feel only natural to be writing about coffee for a childcare article. I might feel differently when it starts to wear off later on, right around the time when Emma used to take her morning nap.

send this column to a friend!
have a comment about this column?

© Todd Pinsky 1998-2002. All rights reserved.