"My bed is my best friend..."

(the title of this post is a shout-out to J&R. tehehehe.)

So I love to sleep. Sleeping is great. I probably don't get nearly as much of it as I should, but hey! That's life. And since I'm pretty much always at least semi-functional during the day, I figure I'm not in any immediate danger of suffering from sleep deprivation.

My love of sleep is compounded by the fact that I am not, and I repeat not, a morning person. As family members and past roommates can attest, waking up in the morning is one of the hardest things for me to do ("Was that a truck backing up in the parking lot at 5am this morning?" "Umm, no, that was Katie's alarm clock."). On really good days I only have to set my alarms maybe 30 minutes ahead of when I really need to get up. Most days, it's usually about an hour and 30 minutes. And you read that right - alarmS. I have multiple, all set to go off at about ten minute intervals. It's rather sad and a little ridiculous. I feel sorry for my future husband. I also have this fear that I am going to be the worst mother - that my kids are never going to have homemade lunches and will always be late to school because their mother can't seem to wake up early enough in the morning to get them dressed, make them breakfast, pack their lunches and drive them to school. Oh great. I am going to have naked, hungry and perpetually late children. Oy vey.

Anyways. My early-morning troubles actually weren't even the real reason for this post.

When I lived with J&R at The Cove, I quickly began to realize something about the two of them: They are Nappers. And not just casual, once-in-awhile nappers. I'm talking about all-star, all-state nappers. If BYU had a napping team, they would have been the captains. And especially when R and I lived together (J, you were on your mission) - she took a good two or three hour afternoon nap almost every single day. It was amazing.

But while I lived with these two extraordinarily talented nappers, I was a never a napper myself. Even before then, I was never one to come home, take a nap, and then get up and finish my day. When I was younger, occasionally on Sundays I would participate in our house-wide nap-time (FOB = Flat On Back = everyone leave Mom and Dad alone so they can sleep for a couple of hours and not have to deal with six crazy kids). Usually, though, instead of sleeping I would read a book. So, yeah. I've never been a big napper.

Until now, it would seem.

For the past week or so, I am finding that at approximately 6-7pm I am suddenly drained of all energy. I am trying to do my homework and I am struggling to keep my eyelids open. Today I realized that I had dozed off at the kitchen table, my Mexican American studies book open in front of me. Other days it's happened while I'm sitting in my red reading chair - I'm jolted awake, freezing cold, legs numb from being perched on the edge of my bed, highlighter in hand, book in my lap. I usually abandon the book, drag myself to the bed and cover myself with a blanket before softly drifting off to sleep again. These naps don't last too long - maybe an hour, an hour and a half. But still, it's frustrating that I can't seem to stay awake anymore in the afternoons, because of course after sleeping for an hour or so, I get up, finish my homework, eat dinner...and now it's time for bed and I'm not tired! So what do I do? I blog of course...

I don't know exactly why I've recently taken up the fine art of afternoon napping, but I do know that it has to stop. And stop soon. I can't take much more of the late-night bedtimes and early-morning wakings. Just think of what will become of the children...!