Growing up, I was a big fan of the Nickelodeon classic, "The Adventures of Pete and Pete." I wanted a superhero as a best friend, preferably if said superhero was the strongest man in the world. I wanted to make someone laugh so hard that milk shot out of their ears. I wanted to be a Nightcrawler.
For the uninitiated, first drop what you are doing and go watch Pete and Pete. Done? Ok, now that you understand it's greatness, you also know what a Nightcrawler is. That would be Little Pete's gang of sleep challenging rebels who vow to stay up for 11 days straight. As a kid, I always found that exciting. The idea of beating the night was alluring to me, and I attempted it (and failed) many times when I was little.
In the subsequent years since my childhood, I completed the mission of staying up for more than 24 hours (I can't do 11 days, sorry Nightcrawlers) several times and for serval different reasons. I did it in high school the night my best friends hung out together for the first time. I did it serval times in college to complete last minute papers or projects (or to continue with whatever I was drinking at the time). I even did it in the years directly following graduation (when College Lars didn't want to let go just yet).
But as I've gotten older, I've begun to appreciate this whole "sleep" thing more and more. So it was troubling to me when I was told by several friends to say "Goodbye to Shuteye" after they learned I was going to be a father. Apparently, babies are not reliable sleepers...
In preparation for the sleep deprivation that is to come, I decided to challenge myself yesterday to stay up for over 24 hours. I woke up at 8:30am in Amsterdam, and started the clock.
Right off the bat, the enormity of the day hit me. 24 hours is a long time when it is stretched out in front of you without the benefits of naps to help break it up. What the hell was I going to do all day long? How was I going to stay awake? How was I going to make it?
I had handicapped myself a bit by choosing to do this challenge after a 10 day trek through Europe, so I was already pretty exhausted. Actually, it was Elizabeth who suggested I do this challenge, which makes me yelling "YOU DID THIS TO ME!" at her on the plane around the 18 hour mark more understandable (I feel like those words will be thrown back in the direction of my face come June...)
We flew back at 1:00pm (Amsterdam time). To add a little more to the challenge, every 45 minutes to an hour or so, Elizabeth would tell me the baby was fussy. Or she would subtly "Wahhhhh!" at me. This meant that I would take the neck pillow I was using and rock it back to sleep. I'm going to need major help in that department, because I couldn't even get a pillow to sleep. Who knows how I'm going to do it with a baby...
Being awake like this, where you have something that you have to look out for, makes you hyper aware of how tired your body is becoming. I did everything I could to stay up and alert, from splashing water on my face to slapping myself to just basically looking like an idiot. All I wanted in this world was to sleep. And that was the one thing I couldn't do. I kept waiting for my fellow passengers to say, "Just go to sleep, what's the big deal?" And I would stoicly hold up my pillow, and say "No. My baby needs me."
After a detour in Bangor to refuel (that's right Mainers, I was home for a little bit and the place looked great!) we made it to Philadelphia, where we were to catch a connector to Charlotte. This was around 5pm on the East Coast, which meant I had been up for around 17 hours.
If you get the chance, try dealing with the wonderful, patient, and efficient individuals who man the customs and security desks at our nation's airports. If you are looking for an anxiety attack, that is a perfect formula for one. I found myself annoyed at everything that everyone did. "Jesus, that kid is breathing weird...Wow, that old lady is just being so...old...Am I hallucinating or is that my old landlord and am I flying to Montego Bay with him?" Thankfully, it wasn't and I was just thinking weird thoughts. It was as if my brain had run out of things to constantly think, so it just started throwing the works out. Kind of like a subconscious fire sale.
We landed in North Carolina at 10pm EST (so 20 hours awake for me at this point). Many thanks to CJ Saunders and Wes Forbus for keeping me awake for the home stretch (also, thanks "Wolf of Wall Street" for being impossible to sleep through). At 2:45am, I called it a day/night. I had successfully stayed awake for more than 24 hours in row.
So what did I learn? Well, I learned that sleep is a beautiful thing, a thing to be cherished. But I know that it's something that will be sacrificed when Nugget gets here in June. There will be nights when he or she will not be able to sleep, and it will be my job to rock him or her back to sleep. Again, take it from the pillow, I need work in this department. There are going to be many long nights ahead, and I'm already thinking that an investment in an espresso maker would be a wise one.
But something that I have on my side is the fact that I won't be the only one. I did this challenge to prove to myself that yes, if I had to I could function in this situation. However, I've got an amazing partner in all of this. So any worries I have about about being a non-functioning zombie may be exaggerated, because I have the best teammate possible to help me along the way.
I just need to make sure that when the baby starts crying, I don't start rocking the pillow instead...
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