I used to wonder how it was that my Dad got out of bed so early in the morning every day.  And then proceed to go out for an early morning jog around the town.  Even in the dead of winter.   All this on only 7 hrs sleep or less. 

That was a typical weekday morning for my Dad, who was already into his 4th kid by the time I knew him.  Although in wonder at first in my childish youth, I soon began to understand how he was able to get up early without being dragged out of bed by somebody else.  At least on weekdays.   The notion of a job was introduced to me at the tender age of 9 via a gruelling paper route (Toronto Star alumnus who graduated in ‘86).  

too bad I couldn't just throw them too Back in the olden days, little kids delivered papers.  Every weekday (and Saturday for those who were ambitious – geez I hated the Saturday route – way more customers and the paper was 3 times thicker than normal), at 6:30 in the morning, if one drove around the town, they would see armies of little people scooting around town in predetermined paths inserting papers into front doors of houses making sure not to slam the door for fear of waking the owner.  Or making sure to slam the door in some cases.  Most people had no idea how their paper appeared magically every day for them to leisurely read while sipping a cup of early morning joe.  So it was thought that this army of little people was a story made up to explain away the mysterious appearance of their paper.  Kind of like Christmas in a way.  And, like Santa, these little people were real and we called them children.  

angry is the paperboyI called it slave labour and was quite upset about having to get up at 6 to assemble the paper and load them up on my bike or, ughh, my sled, to trudge around my route to deliver something whose contents I cared nothing about (except for the comics – there was no Ziggy back then thank god).  Oh sure, there were perceived benefits to the job, like the tuppence of a wage that was forced away into Junior’s 1st Savings Account, and the odd time when there were extra papers on the day when the new Bingo game was published in the paper – which provided me with ample playing cards to try to win something I could never claim since I was affiliated with the Toronto Star (damn, I just realized this now).  Oh, and the experience gained on how the real world works.  All this at a tender young age.

Hmm, I could go on reminiscing about my paper delivery career but I think I’ll save that for another discussion.  For this is not the purpose of this particular blog.

Now that I’ve gone through my teenage grocery clerk days and now into a full blown career, I grudgingly  understand the fact that the job does force one to rise out of bed every weekday morning.  What puzzled me until recently was how my Dad would continue to get up early on weekends.  Sometimes even earlier than during the week.  I simply couldn’t understand how he could forgo beautiful, wonderful sleep to go about his day at an early hour.  Without an alarm to wake him up!

Now I understand, and understand it with great clarity.  My Dad was able to do this because, well, he was a Dad 4 times over.

Olivia is starting to get into a nice regular sleep routine (fingers crossed) which has set her internal alarm to wake her up at about 7:00am.  This is what I’ve been hoping for:  going to bed early and sleeping through the night.  But now we have to deal with the early morning action.  Weekday or weekend.  This, I see, is the next step in life for my transformation  into becoming my Dad.   I now see, with eyes wide open, how my sleeping patterns have been dictated to me and how once I’ve adjusted, I’ll never be able to go back.  Even after the kids are grown up.  It will become so ingrained into me that I will not need an alarm clock to rise every morning, without fail, at 6:30 sharp.

And so my friends, the secret has been blown wide open:  this is why old people can get up early every day.  All you youngin’s out there no longer have to question how it is.

I welcome this new phase in my life.  It will take some adjustments, compromises and commitment, but I see how this can enhance my life in so many ways.  Besides, who needs the sleep?  6-7 hrs is the healthy norm anyway.  I’ve read in several places including here  that studies showed those who slept between 6-7hrs a night lived longer on average than those who slept either shorter or longer.  So, having children, in so many ways, is beneficial to long lasting life.

Thanks Dad for showing me the way!