Husband is a little concerned he’s becoming my blog’s ‘foil’.
I can’t imagine why he feels that way. I mean, think I’ve made it pretty clear that I adore that man. (exhibit A).
And it’s a damn good thing I do.
If there’s one thing I love better than Target, John Hughes movies and John Stamos, it’s sleep.
My answer to the question, “Are you a morning person or a night person?” is (without pause) – “Neither”.
I can, and very often, do, nap every day.
On weekends I will sleep until 9 or 10:00 easily if I don’t have to be somewhere.
As soon as the girls were old enough to chew we trained them to come sit between us on our bed – silently – when they woke up at 6 a.m. on weekends and let them go crazy with a box of Fruit Loops and cartoons so we could sleep until at least 8 or 9 (whatever. They obviously turned out fine. There’s fruit in those loops. duh).
Lately, like the past 6 months lately, my precious sleep has been interrupted by Husband’s new fun trick – snoring.
I’ll be honest. It sucks.
But before I go any further, I must post this disclaimer (disguised as a loving letter to my Husband):
First of all, I love you. Now then….
I realize you cannot help your incessant snoring.
I know you feel badly about it and am grateful and appreciative that when I punch you awake you immediately apologize, grab your pillow and head for the couch, leaving me the comfy bed (most nights).
Thank you for trying the Breathe Right strips, the $50 mouth guard (that didn’t work and probably not because you took it out in the middle of the night) and even for contemplating surgery to remove the flappy skin at the back of your throat.
I apologize if the words you are about to read regarding your unfortunate condition are in any way hurtful.
your wife who loves you despite this condition but who would be happier if she was more well-rested.
Okay, so back to me.
Me who loves to sleep.
I can remember when my girls were babies and toddlers and I’d be all sound asleep, pillow perfectly pluffed (it’s a real word), cat curled up on my chest, and they’d start crying out in their sleep, slowly at first but gradually escalating to a screech that would make the cat leap in the air and make my stomach lurch and would almost always cause me to cuss like a sailor as I was jolted out of my sacred sleep.
The snoring is a lot like that.
Seriously, I feel like lately I’ve had the god-awful baby-to-toddler sleep patterns that I’ve spent like 7 years trying to block out.
What’s funny is that like one night a week the snoring is mild (meaning it wakes me up <4 times) and so we get all optimistic and think HE’S CURED! IT WAS ALL A FLUKE! HAPPY DAYS (and nights) ARE HERE AGAIN!!
So we go to sleep all happy (“night!” “night!” kiss kiss blah blah blah) and within 5 minutes, Husband’s breathing takes a turn for the worse.
Usually contains a sound like the syllable “k” on the exhale.
That’s when I know.
That’s when I start to feel a panic deep in my tummy.
That’s when I start to whimper and cry (only on the inside…only on the inside).
And sure as shootin’, the “k” sound decides to stick around for the inhale.
And then it’s all over.
At this point, one of two things usually happens:
1) I begin lightly jostling Husband on his upper arm until the snoring is interrupted. I thankfully try to quickly – very very quickly – fall asleep before it starts again.
2) I don’t…It does…and the “light jostling” turns ugly, Husband groggily says, “was I snoring??”, I grump say “YES!!”, he grabs pillow and heads for the couch.
Some nights one of us will just concede defeat and start the night on the couch, avoiding the whole scenario.
So Husband is currently battling a cold/sinus infection.
And last night, while I was trying to go to sleep (as I felt was evident by the fact that my light was out, my eyes were closed, my cat was settled on my chest), I hear something that sounds like either
a) a cat giving himself a very thorough bath
b) small raindrops hitting the window
c) Husband sucking on a lozenge, flipping it around and around in his mouth while he was playing on his iPad.
the incessant coughing/clearing the throat started.
Swear to god it felt like I was trapped in a hotel room again with my family.
Except now I could grab my cat and my pillow and escape. Which I did. Quickly. Before the snoring-that-reaches-new-decibles-when-he-has-a-cold joined the coughing.