I love sleep. Nothing feels better than curling up in a warm bed and drifting off. But something has changed about sleep as I get older. I generally wake up four or five times a night. I glance at the clock, figure out how much longer I have until I need to wake up, then fall right back asleep. I get a lot of sleep, but it is broken into smaller segments.

I probably should be more worried about my sleeping habits, but I don’t feel overly tired so I just let it slide. I actually should be mad because I have never had sleeping problems in the past.

As a kid, I was so difficult to wake up that one of my siblings would have to carry me upstairs for breakfast. I was just a little spoiled.

When they got me upstairs, I would curl up on the top step outside our kitchen to try and catch a little more shuteye. And I would make the rest of the family eat breakfast with the kitchen lights off so as not to disturb my slumber.

OK, I was really spoiled.

As I got older, I was less demanding about my sleep pattern, but I managed to get as much sleep as possible. Like any teenager, I would stay up as late as possible and sleep pretty much all of the morning on weekends and in the summer.

Things accelerated when I got to college. Sometimes, I could schedule my classes around my sleep patterns.

I could make sure to have a 9:20 class, but nothing else until the afternoon. That way, I could get enough sleep to make it through class and still catch a nap without impacting my lunch plans.

But the more people I met at college, the more I realized that I was a rank amateur. My friend Brett could have turned pro in sleeping, which would have been beneficial because his love of the nap pretty much sunk his academic career.

I remember introducing Brett to a girl I knew who wanted to date him. They hit it off, but I couldn’t believe what they talked about.

Naps. They compared the best times to nap. They shared their opinions on the best place to nap. They swapped notes on the most comfortable place to nap.

Now that’s dedication to your sleep.

I tried to monkey with my sleeping patterns even as an adult, working odd shifts at the newspaper and enjoying the freedom to sleep all afternoon after pulling an overnight shift.

Then we had a kid. And sleep turned into a chore instead of a pleasure.

First of all, Bridget doesn’t believe in napping. She won’t even consider crashing for a few hours in the afternoon, which means my nap opportunities are limited.

Secondly, I know pretty much know when I have to wake up with a 4-year-old in the house. I have a human alarm clock instead of staying in bed as long as I want.

Maybe that’s why I wake up so much. I know someone is going to come and get me eventually. Unfortunately, she can’t carry me to the kitchen.