Hugh Reilly: Tackling tiredness in the classroom? Let's sleep on it

Published on Tuesday 9 March 2010 20:55

IN THE fairy story Sleeping Beauty, a handsome prince bends down and kisses a beautiful 15-year-old princess, instantly bringing her to life.

If Sir leant over and planted a smacker on a dozing classroom Lolita, he'd be sacked by his employer and invited to relocate by window-smashing neighbours.

In Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Sleepy is always tired, a moody midget who utters his lines in a laconic fashion, much like the little people I teach.

But wake up at the back! All this may be about to change. Glasgow City Council has engaged a sleep counsellor to work with sluggish schoolchildren in an effort to reduce the impact of poor sleeping habits on academic achievement.

According to research, teenagers require a minimum of nine hours sleep, but our kids are often getting by on only three or four hours. A charity, Sleep Scotland, advises youngsters to develop a schedule that will help them drift off to the Land of Nod.

Taking caffeine before bedtime is a definite no-no, therefore no coffee, Buckfast or Pro-Plus pills before they hit the pillow. More controversially, the experts ask that parents remove distractions such as a TV or PC from their child's bedroom. This is surely a step too far. In households cursed with a teenage member, the delicate family harmony depends on mum and dad having as little facetime as possible with their truculent adolescent issue. For certain, fragile personal relationships would inevitably breakdown if the electronic cosh of a plasma TV, PlayStation and a Wii were confiscated from an excitable boy.

If I'm being honest, I don't lose sleep over having tired teenagers in my class. Chalkies greatly appreciate the fact that a group of disaffected, S4 untermenschen is far more malleable first thing in the morning. These deadbeats spookily resemble the comatose patients in the movie Awakenings before Robin Williams dishes out the doses of L-dopa medication. By early afternoon, however, the lunchtime combo of sugary snacks washed down with Red Bull kicks in and the mob start exhibiting the classic signs of "challenging behaviour".

Sleep is a vital part of mental wellbeing. Studies show that those kids who sleep for four or five hours have a 71 per cent greater risk of depression than those who slumber for eight hours.

According to research from the United States, sleep deprivation in young people causes confusion, irritability and has been misdiagnosed as ADHD. In my experience, lack of sleep causes similar problems in adults. My self-diagnosis is that I suffer sleep apnoea. Apparently, I snore like Barney the Bear in hibernation mode.

Dr Neil Stanley, a sleep expert, believes the secret to a long and happy marriage is having separate beds or even sleeping in different rooms. Unfortunately, my ex-wife took his thinking to a higher level by deciding to sleep at a separate address.

I conform to the bedroom etiquette that demands the male sleeps on the side of the bed nearer the door. Women like to believe this is a primeval instinct in man, a throwback to a time when the hunter positioned himself to protect his mate from bears, wolves and overly amorous milkmen. The pragmatic reality is that it makes a post-midnight toilet pitstop less of a journey.

When I occasionally snore – invariably after a few pints and a rancid kebab – my current partner has the good manners to depart the bedchamber and sleep on the living-room couch. At first glance, this may seem the selfless act of woman in love, but the truth is a tad more prosaic. Should she out me as a snorer, I will reveal her darkest secret – ie, that she has what Americans call a Jimmy leg, an intermittently twitching limb that suggests her dreams constantly feature her falling down manholes.

On particularly bad nights – perhaps after she has gorged on some gorgonzola – I awake next morning in a zombiefied state with bruises on my shins. And she wonders why I never give her breakfast in bed.

Yawning… eyelids heavy… must go for a nap.