D. None of the Above: When a morning person loves a night owl
By Daniel Dunaief
Okay, I’ll admit it: I’m a morning person.
Yes, sometimes, I’m an annoying morning person, ready to poke my wife in the arm, kiss her cheek, or play peek-a-boo with a son who can barely open his heavy lids to notice me.
No, my son is not two, and yet, I still have the urge to smile at him and play games in the morning.
I’m the lone morning wolf in my family. Even my dog, who is as far from a wolf as a dog could be, sometimes closes his eyes tightly when I get up too early for him, hoping I’ll go away or, maybe, I won’t see him. No matter how much his fur blends in with the carpet, it’s impossible not to notice a 95-pound dog.
On the other end of the circadian spectrum, I start to fade early each day. Surrounded by family and friends, much of the time, who enjoy late-night snacks, conversations, giggle fests, and games, I can barely keep my head up and my eyes open.
“You look so tired,” someone will say at about 10 p.m.
“Huh?” I’ll respond, trying to figure out if they’re talking to me. “Oh, yeah, well, I got up early today.”
I get up early almost every day. Getting up late for me means climbing out of bed after 8 am.
I’d like to alter my circadian clock sometimes, but I can’t.
Sensing my imminent departure into dreamland, my wife sometimes asks me a question or two at the utterly reasonable hour of 10:30 pm. I do my best to pick up my head and offer a coherent answer, knowing that the top few floors of my cognitive team have packed up, turned off the lights and tucked themselves in for the night.
The balance between the morning and night person in our marriage means that one of us can handle whatever time-sensitive needs or responsibilities might arise throughout the day. We have shifts.
When we go out on dates, which we can do on any given night as empty nesters, we typically lean towards the earlier side for our outings. The other diners at the early bird special are often decades older than we, although we also sometimes eat with families who have young children.
Our circadian differences extend to the seasons as well. I love the winter, when the sun isn’t too bright, and the air is cooler. Skiing is one of my favorite sports.
My wife, naturally, revels in the summer sun, basking in the extra sunlight each day and soaking up the warmth of the midday sun.
These seasonal differences also mean that one of us often feels energized and inspired by the season. With my wife dressed in numerous layers, we can take a stroll in cooler weather.
During those days when the sun bakes the sidewalk, and the humid air weighs on my shoulders, I can carry ice water or my wife can obligingly dump a welcome ice cube down my back.
Apart from the bookends of each day, we find times when we can give each other our best, reveling in the accomplishments of our children, observing the absurdities of life, and laughing at the differences in approaches to play between our dog and cats.
Even as we are in the middle of my wife’s favorite season, I enjoy the summer more than I otherwise would, knowing that she’s fulfilled and, when I need it, ready to search for a comforting ice cube sometime around mid-afternoon, when I prepare to pass the baton towards her favorite time of day.
