How To Sleep Through The Night

A Guide for Grown Women

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Some people assume good sleep hygiene starts around 8pm, but that only works if you are young and spry (see: born after 1995). Because when you are creeping toward 40, re-learning how to sleep through the night becomes a full-time job. And that job, sadly, starts first thing in the morning.

As soon as you wake up, you must take a walk outside with no sunscreen and no sunglasses. Pay no attention to the fact that you look like a gremlin and might bump into a neighbor. Honoring your circadian rhythm > looking cute at 6:52am. Your circadian rhythm is your body's natural 24-hour clock and it is imperative to keep that clock set to the right time. Bright sunlight first thing in the morning tells your body HELLO, IT IS TIME TO WAKE UP. Bonus: vitamin D is good for bone health and also moodiness (not that you would know anything about that, wink). So keep walking! Feel the sun on your skin and let the natural light gently touch your eyeballs. Remember that meme of Trump squinting directly into the eclipse? Don't do that. Squinting causes wrinkles, and also, according to scientists, staring at the sun can cause serious eye damage.

Around noon, you’ll need to stop drinking caffeine. This includes iced coffee, Alani energy drinks, and—most disappointingly—Diet Dr. Pepper. Switch to sparkling water, although (allegedly) that's also bad for digestion and teeth enamel. Sad, plain water might be your best bet. FYI: your afternoon productivity will likely plummet as a result, but this is the price you pay for a good night's sleep.

At 3pm, after the children have asked you 432 questions mostly pertaining to screen time and snacks, resist the urge to "just lie down for a few minutes." Naps are, unfortunately, the enemy of a full night's sleep.

I regret to inform you of this next part, but you'll also need to resist the urge to indulge in a cocktail at Book Club. If your Oura ring has taught you anything, it's that enjoying a margarita with your friends at 7pm will—10 out of 10 times—lower your sleep score by 30%. According to the National Council on Aging (who knew there was such a thing?!), alcohol disrupts your sleep cycle, increases your need to pee, causes breathing problems, and interferes with your circadian rhythm (we've already been over this!). Choose a mocktail instead, or sad plain water, both of which pair well with anything on the menu that won't make you feel bloated (which is, unfortunately, 72% of items on the menu). You probably already know this, but bloating also disrupts your sleep.

Around 8:30pm, you'll want to stop drinking liquids and begin your official wind-down routine. This is a good time to work through your seven steps of skincare, apply Frownies, remove contacts, and put on blue-light filtering glasses. Next you’ll want to pop two gigantic magnesium pills, tidy your bedroom, plug your phone in the charger (outside of your bedroom, of course!), and, finally, grab a yellow legal pad and quickly jot down every single thing in your brain (work deadlines, emails you need to respond to, the kids are out of cereal, etc).

Between 9 and 9:30pm, it’s time to pop half a CBD gummy, brush your teeth, then put in your (v. sexy) mouth guard. Apply hand cream to hands. Foot cream to feet. Crawl into bed with your husband and an old cracked iPad so together you can watch an episode of a TV show you've already seen 72 times. (You're technically not supposed to watch TV before bed, but this is your one vice and watching TV helps your brain shut off faster than reading books, even though your doctor doesn't believe you.)

At 10pm, once you're adequately drowsy, go ahead and shut the iPad off, crank up the volume on your sound machine, pull your weighted blanket up to your chin, and easily drift off to sleep in seconds. (Enjoy this part! It won't last!)

When you inevitably wake up to pee around 1am, this is the beginning of the end and acceptance is key. If possible, try not to think about everything you need to do tomorrow. Try not to think about everything going on in the news. Definitely try not to think about what on earth you are going to do with yourself next year when, for the first time ever, all three of your children will be in full-time school.

You're totally awake now, so you might as well process some quick existential questions. Who am I? What am I actually good at? What am I doing with my life? Look at the clock at 1:27am. Promise yourself you won't look at the clock again. How does one become an interior designer? How does one become a travel agent? Wonder if interior designers and travel agents will soon be replaced by AI. Try not to think about that article you read yesterday about how everyone is cheating their way through college and there's no point in even getting a degree anymore. (On the bright side: you haven't saved enough money for your kids to go to college, anyway.)

Think about that AI-themed dystopian novel you'll probably never write. (Dang, it could have been so good.) Look at the clock at 2:39am. Promise yourself you won't look at the clock again.

At 3:02am, accidentally look at the clock again. Revisit that conversation you recently had with your parents about becoming their healthcare proxy. Think about death. Stop thinking about death! Think about your own funeral wishes. Should I write these down somewhere? Wonder who would come to your funeral. Stop thinking about funerals!

Get out of bed at 3:38am. Pee again. Turn the thermostat down one degree. Note to self: remind husband not to touch the thermostat if he ever wants to have sex again. Take 1 milligram of melatonin and readjust your bedroom fan to the highest setting. Tuck yourself back in; pull sleep mask over eyes. Contemplate your next tattoo. Pray for every single prayer request you can remember.

At 5:47am, when your husband starts stirring, check the clock and groan loudly, mentally adding up the number of hours you did not sleep. Suddenly remember you have a Zoom call at 9am and think about how very very very bad and very very very tired you’ll look. Do those under eye patches actually do anything?

Get up at 6:04am and trudge toward the coffee pot in a trance. Pour a giant cup of coffee and retrieve your ice roller from the freezer. Crawl back into bed with your book and resist the urge to touch your phone, check your email, or scroll the news. After twenty minutes of reading, grab your laptop and open up your Morning Pages document. Write your funeral wishes.¹ Text them to your husband.

And what do you know, it's already 6:52am. Time for another circadian rhythm walk. Don't forget your weighted vest.

1. Nobody wears black. Mediterranean tapas are passed around on pretty plates. Only flattering photos in the slideshow, obviously. No sad flowers, ChatGPT eulogies, or depressing music. (The Avett Brothers and Delta Rae will do just fine.) At sunset everyone heads to the beach and takes off their shoes. Coolers are filled with ice cold Diet Dr. Pepper, a casual toast in my honor. Someone in the back quietly sings “Amazing Grace." The children take turns reading Anne Lamott before tossing my ashes into the sea.