New Mattress, New Job, New Year to Better Sleep

Photo by Author

 

Since my husband started working from home because of the pandemic, I have subconsciously taken advantage of that fact. I know he can tackle the morning routine without me, even if it's half-shod. Midnight used to be staying up late for me on weekdays, but it became 1 am or 2 am during the pandemic. I felt so stressed and wanted downtime--"me" time. Some nights I waited until 3 or 4 am.

I know lots of other parents stay up later for "me" time too. I totally get it. It feels so blissful to do housework, homework, or hobbies during this time with no interruptions. Maybe other parents fall into a pattern of procrastinating at bedtime because you don't want to face another difficult day too. Just one more hour of silence, please.

Revenge Procrastination

“Revenge bedtime procrastination” describes the decision to sacrifice sleep for leisure time that is driven by a daily schedule lacking in free time.

-Eric Suni on Sleep Foundation website

So I have been working on sleep hygiene for years, but it hasn't been as critical before having kids (BTW, bipolar and PTSD affect my sleep too). I could make my own work or school schedule when single. My revenge procrastination has also contributed to considerable weight gain. Last September I finally contacted a health trainer who is now specializing in helping moms. We've set small goals that I can be successful at. It helps on and off, but I am making some progress.

I had also been discussing a part-time job with my previous counselor. She thought it would help me revamp my bedtime. After all, we've been working on my sleep hygiene for five years. I started applying for jobs three months ago.

A Small Responsibility: a New Job

This has been a catch-22 for me if I have a responsibility in the morning. When I have multiple appointments, I can stress for several hours at night. I try to keep the stress at bay by "relaxing" more. This is the ultimate procrastination revenge.

But some small responsibilities have encouraged me to seek rest at an earlier time. Before the pandemic, I had to get my son on the bus in the morning. I still skirted the edge of a good bedtime--7-8 hours before I have to wake last minute--but I did it. When my husband switched to remote work, I knew I didn't have to take children to the bus or to school. Thus, my sleep habits worsened.

As hinted above, I started a new job outside my home beginning of this year. Now I am retiring two to three hours earlier because I am accountable to someone else. I know I need to function to perform my work duties. And I am "rewarded" with a paycheck. Perhaps, a reward may motivate you too.

Having a job may not work for some parents. It depends on the work hours and the work atmosphere. I looked for a part-time job so I still had downtime for other parts of the day. I still have time for my kids too. Personally, a full-time job would increase my anxiety since I would be away from my family longer.

Now my husband reports he has seen me more since I began working part-time. I wake in the morning and help with preparing our sons for school. I am also awake in the evenings.

I also found I retire earlier when I have an activity to look forward to. For example, when I scheduled my physical therapy appointments in the morning, I retired slightly earlier. I know I have pain relief coming. Additionally, I look forward to socializing with others at work and having tasks that end, unlike housework.

A New Bed

"By the end there, I was barely hanging on."

-My husband's description of dozing with me on a queen bed

Last year my lower back hurt so much I couldn't sleep at night. This created a cycle of pain preventing sleep and sleep deprivation increasing sensitivity to pain. So I looked for some solutions to sleep. My brother suggested a two-sided body pillow for side sleepers. I ordered one and it helped relieve some pain.

Additionally, my husband and I needed a new bed after tossing and turning on our queen bed for several years. I sprawled across most of the bed and hogged the covers, so my husband felt colder and scrunched on 1/3 of the bed. (My husband corrected me when he read this section: he had "1/5 of the bed".)

We settled on a king-size Serta memory foam mattress with cooling "technology". Now both my husband and I sink into the memory foam with room to spare. The memory foam (plus physical therapy and stretching) has almost erased my lower back pain. Now I rarely need the body pillow and I can stand for more than an hour. I also look forward to my mattress keeping me cool during the summer months.

So what is useful to look for in a mattress to improve your sleep? For me, it came down to size, firmness, pain relief, and my sleeping position. Other factors may include allergy prevention or a partner's different needs. For example, one couple I know have different sleeping preferences, so they chose a sleep number bed.

For a guide to buying a mattress, check out this article by Good Housekeeping.

I Never Regret Retiring Early

Children may complain about an early bedtime, but I've rarely heard any adult regretting going to bed early. Have you? Last Fall, I had the realization that I have never regretted going to bed early. The moment I hit the pillow, I only regret staying up later and wonder why I avoided my soft bed and firm pillow so long.

After writing about sleep, now I want to fall asleep. Are you ready for a good night's rest too?

If you enjoyed this article, please consider tipping or pledging so I can pay off my new bed. Or you can keep your money for your new bed.

Dear Brother Wright, Thank You for Listening to a Teenager

Dear Brother Frank Wright,

One overcast Friday in '95 or '96 I knocked on your creaky door and you answered, hands on your walker. I told you who I was and who my parents were. I had seen you at church on occasion, but you couldn't always attend because you were unable to navigate the stairs of the South Chapel (dubbed Blanding Tabernacle). I knew of you from your son and his wife, who "home taught" my family. I called you Brother Wright because that was the sign of respect used in my Mormon pioneer hometown.

I don't know if you knew what would happen for the next few years of your Friday afternoons from that first day. Truly I took a chance that you weren't some "creepy old man" like a few others I met in my adulthood. That never entered my mind, which may have stopped me from knocking on your door. You also took a chance on me.

Instead, you were a patient and loving old man. You treated me with kindness, listened to my weekly woes, let me borrow your books, and told me some about your week. Occasionally I asked about your history, but most of it didn't sink into my teenage mind. You and many others had built the town of Blanding. I believe you built your own home. Now I wonder what buildings you or your ancestors built.

I walked northwest (view outside my side door, but facing NE) to Br. Wright's house (Photo by Author)

In the late 90s, there were no smartphones, so I don't think I ever took a picture of you. I didn't capture your blue eyes, often clouded with cataracts, or your wrinkly face and bald head. It cost a lot of money to buy a disposable camera and develop the prints. Instead, we had time not interrupted by electronics, since you turned off your blaring TV when I came in. However, two electronic devices often interrupted when working improperly--your hearing aids. The high-pitched squeals pierced my eardrums until you adjusted them to the right level. Then I yelled during our conversations so you could hear me. I had to repeat myself several times.

I think I talked with you about many teenage things and occasionally about your past. You encouraged me to share about my week before we moved on to your week. Sometimes we discussed San Juan County history or politics in general. I still didn't know the full breadth of your contribution to Blanding. Also, I wonder if I ever mentioned Bill Clinton, one of the real creepy old men.

I look back and I wish I had asked more about the past. I was more interested in American history, Joan of Arc, and the Roman siege of Masada. Maybe now that I'm older the past is more appealing because I have lost my grandparents' connection to the past. They had so much history that I never discovered. How much history did I not discover from you? Admittedly, it would have been hard with your hearing impairment.

My Gerald Lund Book Collection (Photo by Author)

Because you wanted to share history, you let me borrow some of your historical fiction books, which I couldn't get my hands on at the local library. I remember Gerald Lund's Work and the Glory series that you let me borrow most of all. I felt so bad when I left a carrot stain on a page, but you waved it off. You weren't worried about it. Instead, you discussed the book with me.

Later, I became acquainted with your daughter who built a blue module house in your large garden. She'd lived in Arizona before. She and your sons shared their appreciation that I visited you weekly. I felt blessed having shared that time with you too. I could talk to you about random things and you listened (though you may not have heard).

I struggled when you were sick enough that you needed to be closer to specialty doctors 250 miles "up North" (Utah County). I was busier with high school, but I missed you. One time my mom and I visited you at your granddaughter's home up North. Sadly, you weren't as coherent and you tired easily. I talked more with your daughter and granddaughter than you. After you retired, we women admired a freehand vine painting on the wall.

The dynamic changed because you now resided in a hospital or nursing home for the remainder of your 90s. I visited infrequently at the nursing home. I struggled--because you struggled to communicate. Everything smelled like urine and cleaner, which reminded me of visiting my grandpa in the hospital. It was just hard. Our visits only lasted a few minutes. Soon your great-granddaughter moved into your home, so your white stucco home no longer welcomed me in the same way. After all, you weren't there.

After I left to attend BYU, my mom told me you had passed away. I wish I could have said goodbye one last time. I wish I could have attended your funeral. Instead, I was stuck doing schoolwork. But you were proud of how well I performed in high school and junior college; you would have understood.

In your final years, your children and grandchildren befriended me. After I married, I still felt your hand in my life. Five hundred miles north of Blanding, I occasionally ran into your daughter and granddaughter. We talked of visiting more, but it never happened. I regret it, but I also know I was a busy new mom.

Now your legacy lasts when I share my used set of Work and the Glory books with my children. I have that set to teach my children of Mormon Pioneer history, which we had shared together. My oldest son said he read them. My children stain my books, which I can accept graciously from your gracious example. (Though, I still won't let my kids touch my new Chinese history books.)

I hope my children encounter similar kind old gentlemen like you. I'm trying to raise them to be kind gentlemen like you, though I worry often when I hear their occasional fights. Well, my boys open doors for others, so they must be learning some kindness. Luckily, they have good grandparents and kind great-grandparents who they had a brief time to know.

At times I still miss you. And miss so many other "grandparents" in my life. I want to pick your brain and their brains again. I asked my family for more details about you and searched for you online. Apparently, you were a mechanic and river raft guide in Southern Utah and Northern Arizona before the Colorado River was dammed in multiple places. I catch glimpses of you and your wife Dora (who I never met) in several photo archives. I see I only knew part of you, but then you lived 99 years!

One day I will see you again, Brother Wright. Then we can chat without squeaky hearing aids interrupting us.

Sincerely,

Sister Eileen Mellor Davis

Links to Frank Wright photos and letters:

Utah River Running Photo Archives

"J. Frank Wright. Blanding, Utah. At end of Glen Canyon trip of 1951, May 11-17. Lees Ferry." Dudziak, Joseph Lawrence. Papers of Otis R. Marston: Still images, 1870-1978. The Huntington Library, San Marino, California.

Letter from Dora and J. Frank Wright to Eliot Porter

Photo of J. Frank Wright and the boat "Andy"