4 minute read

Early morning adventure with daughter proves insomnia can have a bright side

from eBurgmoms | 2020 Fall

by Daily Record

from eBurgmoms | 2020 Fall, page 6

Mayo Clinic Q And A: Preparing...

By Maria Martin Th e Kansas City Star

It seems like everyone’s having trouble sleeping these days. I’m no exception, and I’m now more familiar with the wee morning hours than I ever expected to be. In the early days of quarantine, I found myself wishing for bedtime out of sheer boredom. I sometimes crawled into bed at 9 p.m., hoping for entertaining dreams to save me from the doldrums. But one can only sleep so much, and early bedtimes led to insomnia. I’m guilty of wasting the hours when I’m awake, fi ghting to get to sleep. I spend this time trying to coerce sleep, scrolling the internet, or even worse, ruminating over every concern, and wallowing in anxiety over the trivial. Recently I found myself yawning in the early evening hours, yearning for bed, but I didn’t want to spend the second half of the night wishing I was asleep. I made myself a deal. I would allow myself to go to bed, but if I woke up, I would not waste that time. Rather than doing nothing, I would do anything that could loosely be considered productive. I predictably awoke at 3:40 a.m. At 4 a.m., sleep had not returned, so I slipped on my fl ip fl ops and made my way to the kitchen. I kept my promise to myself, and unloaded the dishwasher. My 14-year-old daughter appeared, startling me. She had also gone to bed too early and couldn’t sleep any more. We wiped the counters together and discussed possible next steps. One idea led to another, and soon we decided that we would watch the sun rise. Large oaks surround our home, blocking views of celestial happenings such as sunrises, so we aimed to fi nd a better vantage point. “We could go to the lake and watch from the sailboat,” my daughter suggested. We recently purchased a small sailboat. Getting to the boat requires a 30-minute drive, then rowing ourselves out in our small, infl atable kayak. Th e temperature was unseasonably chilly, and we would undoubtedly get wet. To watch the sun rise, we’d have to do this all in the dark. Th e plan seemed impractical. “OK,” I agreed. An impractical plan seemed infi nitely better than no plan. We stopped for fast food coff ee and hash browns on the way. Instead of going straight to the boat, we stopped at a dock that provided a better view of the eastern sky. Fog rose above the water and steam rose from our coff ee cups into the chilly air. Herons fl ew by, ducks quacked, and toads hopped across the path as the sky fi lled with pink, silver and gold before melting to blue. Early-morning kayakers sliced through the still water. We chatted, taking in nature’s early morning beauty. We drove past raccoons and deer on the way to our normal launch, where we infl ated our kayak. We paddled around the cove, exploring shallow areas and watching fi sh jump. We kayaked to our sailboat, organized a few items in the cabin, then watched other boats come in from overnight outings. We chatted about friends, family and the upcoming school year. Our impractical adventure only lasted a few hours, and we were home in time for more coff ee and scrambled eggs. Several times she’s mentioned that she enjoyed our adventure, and thanked me. Th at time was precious, and completely within reach. All we had to do was plan to do something unplanned.