The Napping House

“There is a house, a napping house, where everyone is sleeping.”  “The Napping House” is a children’s picture book by Audrey Wood – read and enjoyed when my children were young. And now, my house has become the Napping House in real life.  Somehow, with the pace of life of two middle-agers and two teenagers, napping has become one of our favorite family activities. On a given weekend, late in the afternoon, you might find the four of us asleep — on the sofa, the recliner, in front of the TV, or on the bed. Each of us with our comfy pillows and blankets, burrowed in deep or limbs askew.  Throughout the week, I take my “short rest” around 5:00 pm, when dinner is mostly ready and I’m waiting for the troops to arrive. For Donald, it’s his evening nap – after dinner and before his television shows.  Sometime after sports, before dinner, Bruce will sprawl across his bed, often tucked in a worn pink comforter. And even Dylan has been known to take an eye pad from the freezer and snooze before going out at night.

A good nap is one of life’s pleasures, for sure. But for us, it’s become almost a necessisty, to keep up with the early hours for school and work, and for the after dinner meetings and sports events.  I like to tell myself that it’s a good break for my bones; but I also know my attention wavers in the evening, and my body starts longing for bed without a well-timed nap.  We learned quickly that on vacation, our little family group could not get an early start and go all day at the amusement park, on a hike or a tour.  We’re much better off to have that midday break, and then be refreshed for the evening. 

It is no doubt the pace of life, but it may also be genetic. In my case, I come by it pretty honestly through my mother – a dedicated midday napper. At her senior living complex in southern PA, she has a sign on her door that lets neighbors know not to stop by between noon and three. We children know not to call in those hours.  She gets out of her clothes into her pajamas, and goes to sleep.  Funny story – sorry Mom – but when she moved into this complex, they were testing the fire alarm early one afternoon – everyone out of the building, including my mother in her PJ’s. This is how she was first viewed by many of her new neighbors, who have since come to know and appreciate the eccentric napper among them.  For her, I’m certain that too many years of too much responsibility produced a fatigue that she is not likely to overcome in this lifetime. My sisters, too, seem to have inherited this genetic tendency, and perhaps my brothers, if they would admit to it. I’m not sure that my husband would have incorporated napping into his lifestyle had he married someone else; but he is able to sleep anywhere, anytime, and I think early mornings and a lot of eye strain have led him to appreciate naptime.

 Sometimes, I wish I were blessed with that extra energy some people seem to have – to go a hundred miles a minute without any signs of fatigue. I’m sure I could get so much more done!  My lifestyle is generally healthy, but I can’t imagine running a marathon, much less an Ironman.  I am a bit envious, and also curious about these differences.  My sister and I like to say it’s because we are so reflective and instrospective, and think and feel deeply, which is quite tiring.  I console myself that many cultures have a tradition of napping – siesta – granted, during the hot time of day, not New England mid-winter.

In any case, I don’t think I can give them up – my naps.  There is that immense physical and psychological relief of dropping off to sleep - the fabled call of Lethe - when I find myself dipping down under the edge of care for a few moments. If heaven is the least like a well-deserved nap, I won’t mind it at all.