"Fine"
I was in the dining room this morning, precisely at 6:30, when my alarm rang and Hiromi turned it off. "I want to sleep just a little longer," he called out to me.
"Fine," I answered. And mentally shook my head. I had gotten up at 5:30, despite my alarm having been set for 6:30. By 6:30 my morning routine was well underway, and I was ready to set out on our morning walk. Not this morning apparently--not at the usual time, anyway. So I did a few extras. I'm very flexible that way.
I can't relate to people who know this precisely when they have had enough sleep. If at 6:30 it is not enough; at 7:00 it will probably be just right. A ten-minute lunchtime nap may be just right. Then again, 20 minutes might be the magic number. I never know. But Hiromi always knows.
For me, a 3-hour Sunday afternoon nap works just fine, or I can skip the nap entirely, if that's what the schedule calls for. Not Hiromi. He takes a short nap, whether we're in a feverish dash to get ready for company, or whether he has the whole afternoon and evening with no deadlines.
It's the same way with food. If there's a little food on the table, I get done eating when the food is gone. Hiromi knows when he needs yet a piece of toast, a bowl of Ramen noodles, or the leftover rice, or another of his comfort foods. He cheerfully rustles it up himself, so I don't complain--unless he's leaving more healthful food uneaten in favor of these high-carb diversions.
If there's a lot of food on the table, I know then too when I've had enough--when it's all gone. This is problematic in the waistline department. Hiromi can walk away from leftovers without regrets.
I think all Hiromi's hunger and sleep hormones stand at attention, ready to snap a salute and follow orders at a moment's notice. My hormones are the lazy kind--happy to lurk out of sight, responding only when compelled by convenience or necessity.
I could pride myself on my extraordinary flexibility. Or I could berate myself for my lack of attention to routines and orderly habits. I could rail at Hiromi for being so focused on his own wants and desires, irrespective of what would be helpful in any given situation. I've tried all three. What works best is indifference. When Hiromi says he needs more sleep or more food, I usually just say "Fine" and get on with my life--lots of routines and lots of diversions from routines.
I'm not giving up those three hour Sunday afternoon naps without a good reason. I had too many years when I had babies and could not sleep in the afternoon unless they all took naps at the same time. Hiromi could always sleep in those days, and now it's my turn. Of course, I can think of lots of good reasons for giving up those naps--mostly opportunities to interact with other people. But even then, Hiromi pines for his short afternoon nap.
Did I say it was a good thing we found each other? As long as we're both very quick to say "Fine," we'll be fine.
"Fine," I answered. And mentally shook my head. I had gotten up at 5:30, despite my alarm having been set for 6:30. By 6:30 my morning routine was well underway, and I was ready to set out on our morning walk. Not this morning apparently--not at the usual time, anyway. So I did a few extras. I'm very flexible that way.
I can't relate to people who know this precisely when they have had enough sleep. If at 6:30 it is not enough; at 7:00 it will probably be just right. A ten-minute lunchtime nap may be just right. Then again, 20 minutes might be the magic number. I never know. But Hiromi always knows.
For me, a 3-hour Sunday afternoon nap works just fine, or I can skip the nap entirely, if that's what the schedule calls for. Not Hiromi. He takes a short nap, whether we're in a feverish dash to get ready for company, or whether he has the whole afternoon and evening with no deadlines.
It's the same way with food. If there's a little food on the table, I get done eating when the food is gone. Hiromi knows when he needs yet a piece of toast, a bowl of Ramen noodles, or the leftover rice, or another of his comfort foods. He cheerfully rustles it up himself, so I don't complain--unless he's leaving more healthful food uneaten in favor of these high-carb diversions.
If there's a lot of food on the table, I know then too when I've had enough--when it's all gone. This is problematic in the waistline department. Hiromi can walk away from leftovers without regrets.
I think all Hiromi's hunger and sleep hormones stand at attention, ready to snap a salute and follow orders at a moment's notice. My hormones are the lazy kind--happy to lurk out of sight, responding only when compelled by convenience or necessity.
I could pride myself on my extraordinary flexibility. Or I could berate myself for my lack of attention to routines and orderly habits. I could rail at Hiromi for being so focused on his own wants and desires, irrespective of what would be helpful in any given situation. I've tried all three. What works best is indifference. When Hiromi says he needs more sleep or more food, I usually just say "Fine" and get on with my life--lots of routines and lots of diversions from routines.
I'm not giving up those three hour Sunday afternoon naps without a good reason. I had too many years when I had babies and could not sleep in the afternoon unless they all took naps at the same time. Hiromi could always sleep in those days, and now it's my turn. Of course, I can think of lots of good reasons for giving up those naps--mostly opportunities to interact with other people. But even then, Hiromi pines for his short afternoon nap.
Did I say it was a good thing we found each other? As long as we're both very quick to say "Fine," we'll be fine.
posted by Mrs. I at
4:45 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home