Over the years of doing FirstNews, I've heard lots of different ways that people deal with working odd hours...from co-workers and viewers. For example, one overnight producer here at KMBC, goes home around 8:00 a.m., stays awake until 1:00 p.m., then sleeps until 7:00 p.m. Some of the co-anchors I've worked with are big believers in naps...others are disciplined enough to hit the hay by 6:00 p.m. I don't think Maria Antonia slept at all for the eight years we worked together on the show. The other extreme was Jim Flink, who actually slept through most of the actual broadcasts. A few viewers have told me that the key is to maintain the same sleep routine on the weekend as you do during the week. Still, others, pledge allegiance to coffee and soda pop.

I never got into a good napping routine because none of our kids were really too big on naps. There were times, at lunch, when I would stretch out on the floor next to the table and fall asleep, against my will. The kids would then use my unresponsive body as playground equipment...a Jungle Joel. There were several times when my wife would come down to the basement to check on me...I was supposed to be exercising...and find me sound asleep. The sleep part is not surprising...that I would even pretend to work-out, seems highly unlikely. I've never liked the idea of going to bed at 6:00 p.m. because I felt that defeated the purpose of working the early shift. The whole point of doing the odd hours is so you have family time...well, that, and earning some money so you have food, shelter and clothing...but, what would be gained if you're sawing logs when everybody else is doing stuff. Especially, as the kids have gotten older and have so many different events and performances, being awake in the evenings is even more important. True, there have been a couple of grade school concerts where I started yelling "Auntie Em. Auntie Em," and, I'm still not sure my oldest son has forgiven me for the time, during his dramatic scene in his high school's production of The Grapes of Wrath, when I ran across the stage, screaming "The bears are going to get me! The bears! The bears!" I once nodded off during a school awards ceremony and woke to find my head on the shoulder of the guy next to me. As much as he didn't like that, the sleep-drool on his suede sport coat is what really aggravated him.

The fact of the matter is that, the time I head up to bed, is only remotely related to the time I actually fall asleep. It is almost Pavlovian: I say good-night and the parade of children begins. As I mentioned a few weeks back, I read the great Doris Kearns Goodwin book about Lincoln earlier this summer. In the book, she writes about how President Lincoln would spend hours greeting and talking to just regular folks as they made their way through his office. I can relate. This is the normal routine:

Approximately 8:30 p.m.: I let the dog out and back in. Pour some Cheerios into a plastic container for the morning. Say my good-nights. Head up the stairs.

8:35: Having brushed my teeth...and flossed, just in case my mom reads this...I give the dog a treat...set my three alarms and get in bed. So far, so good.

8:36: My daughter enters the room, supposedly to say "Good night....again!" but that seques into a complaint about something one of the boys did or, more often, a request to have a sleepover or go to some friend's house or "earn" (read: borrow...really read: take) some money or inquiries about how much it would cost to have a horse or questions about when we can go to grandma's house or Branson. This more-or-less monologue continues for five minutes or so.

8:41: Daughter leaves...oldest son comes in, to explain the many different ways I've been unfair in my decisions and discipline during the previous 24 hours...having laid the groundwork of my fatherly failings, he then asks if he can go to a friend's house at 10:00 p.m. to watch a movie. When I mumble that 10:00 p.m. is a little late to be starting an evening's fun, I hear a more impassioned exhortation about the hours he and his friends work and how everyone is going to be on vacation...or going back to school...or too busy with volunteer work to ever get together to watch a movie, ever again. After about ten minutes, he gives up and searches out his mother.

8:51: Second son moseys in with his guitar..."I know you're trying to go to sleep but listen to this...Does that sound like the beginning of a Buddy Holly song?" Having softened me up with music, he starts the request process regarding practice driving tomorrow and can he go to a friend's house and, if he can, can they walk down to the store and play the store's video games and, if that's okay, can he then eat at the friend' house and then would I come and get him, but let him drive home. He says all of this while accompanying himself on the guitar. It's like having a wandering minstrel from Camelot appear out of nowhere. He never really waits for any answers...he just plays himself out the door.

9:00: The littlest boy sneaks in and climbs up on the bed. He cuddles up and I think, finally, someone without any problems. He doesn't say anything but will occasionally fake a snore. Just as I am about out, I hear a click, notice a blue glow filling the room and comprehend the not-so-soothing tones of Gene Rayburn saying to Charles Nelson Reilly "The Jolly Green Giant said 'The last time it was this cold, I froze my BLANK off.'" Then, I hear a whisper "Dad, can I have the TV on?" (Just FYI, the winning answer for the MatchGame quiz was "niblets.")

9:15: My wife enters the room, shuts off the TV and gets the boy into his own room. "I'm sorry if they kept you awake...I didn't realize they were up here...I was (choose one)
a) Getting ready for work tomorrow.
b) On the phone.
c) Engrossed in a Lifetime movie starring Tracy Gold called "Everything Is Horrible and It's Mainly the Fault of Men."
d) all of the above."

At that point, she will remember something she had to talk to me about..."but, no...it's late...it will probably turn out okay, anyway, so never mind...we'll talk tomorrow...I don't think one more day will matter...too much. Just forget I said anything. Don't worry. It will probably work itself out."

45 minutes later, the room is finally quiet. The dog has been sleeping through everything. The kids are onto other things or off to bed themselves and, being kids, will be asleep before their heads hit the pillows. When they were babies and waking us up in the middle of the night on a fairly routine basis, I would say that, when they get to be teenagers, I am going to go into their rooms at 2:00 a.m. and start wailing. Now, years later, I've actually done just that...and they don't even twitch! Frustrating. My wife is downstairs doing her exercises and watching the news...picture in picture...until the Lifetime movie is over. I am wide awake.

It is in those times that I remember the words of the great Edward R. Murrow: "Good night and...good luck!"