Another 52 Weeks — #18
Sunrises, night owls, and parenting embarrassment
For the first two-thirds of my life, I rarely saw the sunrise.
I was a night owl — a combination of insomnia that dated to childhood and working mostly the evening shift for 10 of my 13 years in newspapers. In those days, I only saw the sunrise if I stayed up all night.
This usually came in handy when our children were infants, because the middle of the night feedings often coincided with my bedtime. Of course, there were exceptions — one in particular.
My most embarrassing parenting moment occurred when our twins were only a couple of months old. No one slept for extended periods then — day or night — and an exhausted Jill offered me an exorbitant sum to take the 2 a.m. shift.
We had the bottles ready, and on cue, Ben and Emma — sleeping in the same crib — announced that it was time to eat and watch the syndicated rerun of “Northern Exposure” that played on a local TV station during the graveyard shift. I put the twins in their carriers, slumbered downstairs, got the bottles, and went to the recliner.
Normally, if I had both kids, I sat on the floor and fed them in their carriers. But on this night, I had the bright (?) idea to put them in the crooks of my arms so I could be more comfortable in the chair.
I then proceeded to fall asleep.
It couldn’t have been for more than a couple of minutes, but I was startled awake when one of the babies squirmed and started crying. I tried to fix the situation, but there was one problem.
While the rest of my body was awake, both arms failed to get the memo. I had to slide slowly out of the recliner, reach the floor, dump one twin on the carpet and then the other. Vividly, I remember standing as fast as possible and shaking out the numb tingles while my infant children — illuminated only by the glow of the Rob Morrow dramedy — gave me “that look” that only children can give.
That embarrassment aside, I gradually felt my body clock shift over the next decade. Now I rarely sleep past 7:30 or 8, which means I get to see and photograph a lot more sunrises.
To illustrate, this week’s essay is bookended by two sunrises — one of the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool in 2021 and another taken last Sunday in Old Town Alexandria, when Jill finished first (!) in her age category in a local 5K. As usual, I provided tech support..
I hope you enjoy both photos and the rest of “Another 52 Weeks.”
Book Party
If you are close to the Greater Washington, D.C. area on May 29, I hope you’ll consider joining me at a party for the formal launch of my photo book, Keep Your Distance: Walking Through the First Year of COVID.
The free event, which will feature a social hour, interview/Q&A session, and book signing, will be held from 6 to 9 p.m. Thursday at Elaine’s in Old Town Alexandria. Tickets are limited to 50 guests who sign up here.
A limited number of hardback copies of Keep Your Distance: Walking Through the First Year of COVID are available for $40 plus $5.95 for shipping and handling. You can order the book by visiting this link.
And finally…
I guess I’ve been a little obsessed about sleep this week, as evidenced by this Substack note that my fellow music fans will get.
“When it comes to sleep, the older I get the more I feel like post-Accelerate R.E.M. — a few good musical sketches, the occasional lovely dreamscape, and bathroom runs that feel like warmed over B-sides.
I miss the sleep that felt like the group’s IRS/early Warner Brothers years — the era when my brain exploded with ideas daily before falling into necessary slumber/reload mode that gave me the energy to try and change the world.
For the hell of it, I’d like to reunite with those early days once in a while, just like the band has done.”
Love the sunrise pictures!! And your cute, embarrassing story as well as the fact Jill completed a 5k and came in first in her age category!! ❤️
Twins! Yikes, didn't realize that. My life is now grandparenting five days a week, at our home. From 7 am to 5:30 pm M-F now that daughter two has gone back to work. One pays for a p/t babysitter at our house about 2.5 days a week, but it's not enough, esp. when grandson comes over at least two days a week. Yesterday, it was two grandkids (6 months and 18 months), against my wife and I, and we were badly outnumbered. Rewarding, but exhausting.