I NEED sleep. I’ve been surviving, but only just, on about four hours a night for more than a week now and it’s beginning to take its toll.
Some of the tell-tale signs of sleep deprivation have well and truly come to the fore in the past couple of days: reduced alertness (are you talking to me?), a short attention span (what did you say again?), slower than normal reaction time (missed by that much), poor memory (where did I put the car keys), reduced concentration (can you repeat that?), loss of motivation (I don’t want to be here), reduced work efficiency (sorry boss), moodiness and a bad temper (apologies to one and all).
Then there are the more obvious symptoms like constant yawning, dozing off in front of the TV or falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, and feeling groggy when I wake up, like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck. I have also read that more than 17 hours of being awake is the equivalent of having a blood alcohol level of 0.05.
When you have a baby, you resign yourself to the prospect, then the pain, of losing up to 700 hours of sleep in the first year of their lives. I’ve done this three times and it hurts.
These days, I can usually get by on six hours of sleep a night. More is marvellous, of course, but four hours is simply not enough and - for the record - is half the national average sleep time of 8 hours, 1 minute, according to the National Sleep Research Project. (Don’t ask me where that extra minute comes from . . . maybe it’s from hitting the snooze button.)I wish I could hit the snooze button on MM2. She’s been waking three or four times during the night. She’s been having nightmares. Standard stuff for a four-year-old, I’m told, with monsters, witches, aliens and so on looming large.
The experts say that nightmares are most common among three to six year olds, because this is the age at which normal fears develop and a child’s imagination is very active.
Coupled with these bad dreams is a deeper desire to snuggle up with Mum.
And while I can think of nothing better than cuddling my beautiful daughter for hours on end, the practice of co-sleeping is habit-forming, not to mention downright annoying. They toss and turn, kick and snore while you lie prostrate - and awake - on six inches of mattress. Never again!
I am determined to win this battle of wills and declare my bed a kid-free zone. If I give in, MM3 will launch another offensive and I’ll be sleeping (and living) on the edge for the next five years.
MM2 is sleep deprived too. I know this because, unlike grown ups, sleepy kids speed up.
Normally cute and adorable by day, my bedtime monster is displaying all the classic symptoms of a kid who needs more sleep: temper tantrums, hyperactivity, daytime naps and a tendency to emotionally explode at the slightest provocation, like MM3 swiping her Bratz doll and dumping it in the toilet, or Mummy pouring juice into the wrong coloured cup (red is normally her colour of choice, but not yesterday, it was blue).
In researching sleep deprivation, I discovered a little gem of trivia that scientists are still trying to explain - a 1998 study showing that a bright light shone on the back of a human knee can reset the brain’s sleep-wake clock. I’m wondering, would this work with a Thomas the Tank Engine torch?
Perhaps I should shine a light on the back of MM1’s knee. A typical teen, she can sleep until mid-afternoon and party till dawn.
Teens, it seems, are still children at heart and need at least 10 hours’ sleep a night, while my Mum and Dad and others over 65 need the least of all, about six hours.
I was hoping for a good night’s sleep this weekend, but then I read the forecast promising us glorious warmer weather.
To drop off, we must cool off, according to the sleep gurus, because body temperature and the brain’s sleep-wake cycle are closely linked. That’s why hot summer nights can cause a restless sleep. Without getting too technical, the blood flow mechanism that transfers core body heat to the skin works best between 18 and 30 degrees. Later in life, this comfort zone shrinks to between 23 and 25 degrees - one reason why oldies have more sleep disorders. A night on the grog won’t help me either. Sure, I’ll be out cold in no time, but it will be a light slumber and not the restful sleep I need.
Woe is me. What to do? I feel frazzled and worn out, my body aches, my eyes red raw, my arms limp, my head heavy, my zzz zzz zzz.
SUSAN MASTERS is The Advertiser’s News Editor.
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