It’s good to be…sleeping

As a teenager I would sleep until mid afternoon. My mother would watch me saunter down the stairs, my hair in disarray, my eyes bloodshot. As my mother would look upon my disheveled form she would say, in a disgusted voice, “I hope you don’t TELL people you sleep this late.” It never made sense to me. Why would anyone care what time I slept until? Was I taking time away from their snooze-fest? Besides, I finally turned off my light and went to sleep around 4 in the morning. So, I was just trying to get my 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep. What is wrong with sleeping?

After some intense analysis I realized that my Catholic mother had two problems with my tardy wakening. First, she definitely believed she had a lazy daughter, which was an absolute disability, a handicap so bad that she would never be able to marry me off. Yeah, it was the late 1980s early 1990s, but in her old-ways European life mentality, her goal was all about selling off…ahem…marrying off her daughter to a good family. The second thing was that “sloth” was (and is) one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Not only was her daughter the epitome of laziness, not only would my mom never be able to find me a mate, but when my life finally DID expire on this earth she knew that her beloved spawn would burn in hell forever which ultimately meant she was a bad mother. Everything in my life somehow directly affected her life. That, however, is a story for another day. Actually, it’s more like a novella, but I digress (as usual).

Lazy. I wasn’t lazy. I was tired. Staying up late when the house was nice and quiet was when I got most of my homework done. HA! HOMEWORK! Yeah right. The witching hour was when I would haul the land line phone into my closet and call my boyfriend and we would whisper chat. Or I’d meet my sister by the tv set in the family room at 1 a.m. so we could watch music videos. THAT was definitely banned. One tv in the WHOLE house and limited viewing time.  There were horrible things like “rock videos” and those were very bad because there was nudity (like bald people) and people dressed weird and screaming at you (like Twisted Sister, We’re Not Gonna Take It which was definitely devil’s work. Hmmm, come to think of it, most of the stuff that was FUN was devil’s work. All this banned stuff made sense (sort of), but sleep…being bad?

Now, back to my original tale of my teenage obsession with sleep.  The reason I liked sleeping so much was that I finally had my very own room which contained my very own double (nowadays called “full”) bed.  There were 4 of us children. We lived in a very large 4 bedroom home. Now here is how bed/bedroom assignments worked in our house.  Parental figures had one of the 4 bedrooms.  That left 3 bedrooms for 4 children. Initially my younger brother and I shared a room, but as we went from toddler to tween the whole boy/girl in same room was not an option. So, my parents put me and my sister together in a room.  It was great!  She is 5 years older than me.   At that time she was so excited that her little sister was sharing HER room and asking questions about HER teenage stuff.  And her little sister would not shut the hell up at night because wee sister came alive at bedtime.  Big sister decided that there needed to be some rules:  No more asking questions about her teenage girl stuff.  No talking at bedtime.  No tossing and turning in the squeaky bed.  No looking at older sister.  No using big sister’s stuff.  Little sis allowed in room ONLY at bedtime.  Oh, little sister must learn not to breathe cause that was annoying too.  After a few days of this sisterly love-fest, I got to vacate.  I went from pauper to princess and got my very own room.

(Sidenote:  My older brother…who is even older than my sister, had to share a room with baby brother…9 years younger.  I don’t think my big brother has ever forgiven me for having him displaced from his solitary haven.) 

Anyway, back to my original tale of the zombie teen in the kitchen.  I thought about the whole “lazy” thing and then thought about how the bible actually referred to this particular sin as “sloth”. Sloths were super cool. I had seen one once while watching Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. (That was the show we had to watch first in order to be allowed to watch the Magical World of Disney. It was a trade off: Learn, then laugh.) But this day was totally worth it cause sloths are incredibly amazing! They look like they are smiling ALL THE TIME! Like a big teddy bear. And they love hugging tree branches which means they love hugs and I love hugs so I was definitely the epitome of sloth-dom.

I tried to explain this thought process to my mother. The whole laziness = sloth = happy animal = GOD LOVES EVERYONE! That last one was always my go to response when my parents poo-pooed people. I used it if my parents didn’t like one of the neighbour kids, “but God loves everyone.”  Or I’d try this one:  Jesus even said to ‘love thy neighbour’.  I could almost hear their eyes rolling at me.  To be fair, I was trained in Commando Verbal Warfare by the best of the best: My Mother.  In the end, I was informed that God could love these people at their own houses and we could love people from afar and sloth and laziness were still bad.  I would still pat myself on the back for the good effort I had put forward.  I wouldn’t win the battle, but hoped to win the war.  Time passed.

As an adult in my partying 20s, I managed to get, maybe 3 to 4 hours of sleep a night. Not sure how I coped or functioned, but I managed to drive my car, do daily work assignments, and basically function like a normal human being. After aging and graduating into the upper echelons of adult society, thoughts of partying were put the wayside because the one thing I cherished most was once again, the nestling of my head into my down and feather pillow and watching my digital clock on weekends as it went from 6 am to 8 am to 9 am to double digits like 10 am and 11 am. Each time I checked the time I would smile, contentedly.  No guilt.  No thoughts of laziness.  I prefer to call it a luxury.  Get it while you can and enjoy it.  Snuggle yourself into your blankets and dream those happy dreams.  No need to get dressed.  No need to run around and think about errands.  It’s the best de-stresser. 

Tomorrow is Saturday.  I have no plans.  Full disclosure, I have one plan:  Sleep in and be happy.



I Forgot to Say Thank You…

Traffic is horrific. I have been sitting here in my car for over half an hour now, inching my way home.  I hate my job.  The kids drive me crazy.  The price of food is outrageous.   My bills are getting higher. My pay isn’t increasing.  Does this sound like your typical day? If you grew up with a morning devotional prayer, you would warble out your devotion and then search out that much needed cup of coffee.  Remember the old movies and tv shows where there were little kids saying, “…and bless mommy and daddy” etc.  Whatever happened to our gratefulness and thankfulness?

First, let me explain that I am not a practising Catholic. I GREW up in a staunch Catholic family upbringing, but as I got older I started looking at the world around me and doubting many things that are part of the Catholic faith.  I learned more about science and what is believable and what isn’t believable.

As a result of my faith and school knowledge clashing against one another, I decided that I would just agree to believe in God and Jesus, but not actually attend any services or say any prayers.  I would thank them every once in awhile, but otherwise I felt I controlled my own destiny.

Then one day, or evening rather, my life changed forever…

I had quit a very stressful job.  Before starting a new job, I decided to visit my father in Croatia.  I needed some time to decompress and he was happy for me to come visit him.  It took some time for us to get used to each other’s routines.  He was an early riser and I was craving sleep ins (having previously been waking at 4 am to go to work). I was a smoker (at that time).  He hated it.  I didn’t want to go anywhere and he was instructed by mother to take me places to see the tourist hot spots.  In the end, I was becoming more my normal happy yappy self again.

After two weeks, we were sitting down eating dinner and he asked me, “Why are you here?”  I thought that was a strange question.   “I quit my job and needed a vacation,” I replied.  “I thought I would see the house that you built,” I continued.  Again he asked, “Ok, but why are you really here?”  I didn’t know what he was alluding to.  Finally I said, “I have noticed that sometimes I feel like I need to do something, but don’t know why.  Eventually the reason is shown to me.”  It sounded so hokey and nutty, but he nodded his head and then went back to eating his dinner.

During my last week there, my dad ran excitedly into the house and said, “I found bees!” He grabbed the phone and called a neighbour.  A few minutes later, and with many thanks, my father hung up the phone and had a huge grin on his face.  “Get ready!”  he exclaimed.  “We are going to get some bees!”

I was HORRIFIED!  Shaking my head vehemently I said:  “NO WAY!”  He proceeded with his litany:  it was safe and bees in a swarm don’t sting and it will be fine and finally…you can just hold the flashlight.  So, this was how my life was going to end, I thought.

We drove the car through the village and parked at the bottom of a steep cliff.  My dad, carrying a mover’s blanket, and I, carrying the flashlight, started our ascent up the cliff, using the angled rock steps to get to the top.  I could see the swarm hanging off the tree. My dad left me to go back and get something from the car.  I waited.

The sky was so clear.  The stars were so bright, I felt I could almost touch them.  Then something made me say, “Please Jesus, I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but could you please just let me live.  I would really appreciate it.  Thank you.”  I took a deep breath and by then my dad had reappeared.  He motioned for me to get closer to the hive.  “Hold the flashlight,” he whispered.  Then he threw the blanket over the swarm and yelled, “RUN!”  Boy did I run!

I ran in the opposite direction of the tree and then I heard my dad yell, “NOT THAT WAY!” My legs kept moving and suddenly my right foot hit a rock and I fell chin first on the ground.  My glasses flew off.  My knees were scraped. My teeth ached from being knocked in the chin.  My palms smarted from the scratches of the forward sliding motion.  My dad came running over to see if I was ok.  The look in his eyes…was it remorse, hurt, fear, relief?  So many emotions all in one look.  I felt like an idiot for tripping.  I ached physically, but mentally I just felt bad for him.  He looked me in the eyes and said, “Thank God you fell.  If you hadn’t tripped you would be dead.”  My look back at him was clearly wide-eyed with an are-you-kidding-me-look.  Yes, had I not tripped on that rock, in another two feet I would have fallen over the edge of the cliff and  down to my death.

I haven’t told many people this story.  It was a life changing moment for me.  It made me realize that I don’t need to say a plethora of Our Fathers or Hail Mary.  I have my buddy Jesus and I know I have angels who watch over me.  How do I know?  I have done some pretty stupid things and lived.

So, I guess I’m still here to live and learn.  To share and to try and help other people find all the good that is in their lives.  Our society focuses so much on negativity that we have been trained to be sarcastic and demeaning.  We learn to talk about everything that is bad and regurgitate it to others.

It is time to take our happy lives back and look for all the good!  I propose a simple two-step process.  Yup, only two steps.

1.  When you are feeling overwhelmed and you think you can’t cope.  Take a deep breath in through your nose (about 6 seconds), then exhale through your mouth (about 6 seconds).  Do this 3 times and suddenly things don’t seem so overwhelming.  I didn’t believe it until I tried it.  It works.

2. Don’t be the one who forgot to say thank you.  Every morning and every evening, find a couple of things that were actually really good and made you feel happy:  Thanks for getting me safely home.  Thanks for my family.  Thanks for my pets.  Thanks for my home.  Thanks for my food.  Thanks for being there, even if I can’t see you.

3. If you feel like you have time for a 3rd step.  Appreciate it all.