Naomi, I am so sorry you inherited my sleeplessness. Because of my lousy genes, you will spend much of your life staring at a darkened celing when the world effortlessly slumbers.
This isn't all bad. Some nights this will come in handy: when a new book comes out and you just can't put it down, when some important thinking has to be done that daylight hours aren't suited for, when the ceaseless whirring of your internal chatter yeilds inspiration rather than worry. Someday you may people-watch the nighttime characters that populate 24 hour diners, you may experience the city shrink to a small town of die-hard Owls. This is lots of fun.
But most of the time, this tendancy toward insomnia will be all boredom and bad television and miserable mornings. You may someday know everything being sold via infomercial and have seen every episode of your favorite long-cancelled sitcom. You will have watched your bedroom clock count away the hours and minutes you have for resting until the searing alarm signals the start of a day spiced with the manic fog of acute sleep deprivation.
You will learn to whir until 4 AM and be functional on a few hours of sleep. Eventually.
Respect you rhythms, sweetheart. Choose a life that allows you your night hours. They serve a mysterious purpose that's part of what makes you who you are.
I think we have many nights ahead of us like the one we had this week, where Miriam obliviously slept while we whirred away, for the most part harmoniously notsleeping together. We talked, we laughed, we sat alone, me with my notebook, you with your dolls.
When I fell asleep in my chair you patted my head and told me to go to bed. That was 3:30 AM. I had given up trying to figure out what you ate, what you did, what you experienced that made your motor run so long into the night, when according to my calculations you should have been ready for bed at 8:30. I know the uselessness of the thought that circles a truth so obscure. Spinning my wheels that way only leads to frustration.
In the morning I let you sleep in. The next night you slept early and soundly, and so did I.