In just a few weeks I got used to my new sleeping buddy and now I can hardly sleep without him. When he went on a trip a few weeks ago, I would stay up until the wee hours of the morning until I simply passed out from exhaustion. This week he's been staying out late with his friends (since this is his last 2 weeks before school starts again) and I've put myself in the bed every night around 11 or 12, but even lying there in the dark with my eyes closed, I can't bring myself to fall asleep until my hubby comes home.
Honestly, though, I don't know why we like sharing a bed. Probably we would have been much more rested if we had separate twin beds (a la Dick van Dyke and his wife), because while we've gotten better at sleeping through the inevitable interruptions, we've not gotten any better at being considerate to the other during our slumber.
Example: Two nights ago, Jeffrey hit me in the face. Right in the nose. He rolled over and smacked me, without even breaking his snore-stride.
Example 2: On most mornings when we wake up, we find that an intense battle over the covers has taken place in the night. Most of the time one person has taken all of the sheet, and the other person has managed to maintain occupancy of the entire comforter. In less fortunate cases, one of us (Jeffrey) has kicked all of the sheet to the foot of the bed, and I have stolen all the comforter. Other days we wake to find ourselves sharing only one corner of the comforter or sheet, because the rest has become hopelessly twisted around someone's leg.
It's really quite exciting what goes on while we sleep. If we could only get MTV to give us a contract and lots of money, we'd set up cameras in there and it would probably be the second-best reality TV show on the air (second, of course, to The Real Housewives of New York).
Anyway, I have some other weird nighttime problems. I have very vivid and strange dreams that I remember forever. Two of my favorites are the time I dreamt that I was camping with several families from church and a bear came into the cabin where we were staying. All the adults immediately threw their children toward the bear and barricaded themselves into the closet. Being outside of the barricade and unwilling to watch the bear eat the kids, I killed the bear with the spoon I had been using to eating cereal. Another time I dreamt that I was carefully unwrapping tarantulas and placing them on a sterile tray for use in the dental clinic. Sometimes I remember them so well that I have to ask Jeffrey months later if they've really happened or if they're just dreams. (Although I was pretty sure that the one with the bear and the tarantulas were just dreams.)
*By the way, please don't try to extract some deep psychological meaning behind my dreams. They're just weird, ok? I don't have mental problems...I don't think.
You know how sometimes when you're almost asleep, your entire body does that weird jump/twitch thing? Well mine does that, except with sound. For instance, I went through a phase a few months ago where every time I started to go into a deep sleep I heard someone's voice say, "Alice!" I don't even know anyone named Alice.
Last night, sometime between my defense of my half of the covers and protecting myself from another mid-REM sleep face slap, I heard the sound of three distinct, insistent knocks on our front door. Not knowing whether these knocks were real or imagined, I sat up in bed and strained to hear what would come next. When I heard nothing else, naturally I figured that the sound had been the noise of a robber/rapist/crazed murderer had just breached our triple locked doors and was now inside our house. I got up to check to see if our bedroom door was locked (that's right, robber/rapist/crazed murderer--you'll have to get past four locks to get us).
When I reached the door, I tested it and saw that it was locked, but almost screamed when I felt two hands grab my arms. It was Jeffrey. He thought I was sleepwalking. We got back in bed, and as usual, Jeffrey fell back to sleep almost instantaneously. I felt my heartbeat slow down to a normal level, then went back to sleep...
...that is, until Jeffrey rolled over and curled his knees up toward his chest, hitting me squarely in the behind.
Sometimes it makes me want to sing, "There were two in the bed and the little one said, "Roll over; Roll over!" So they all rolled over and one fell out."
Honestly, though, I'll take all the hard knocks just to have a cuddle buddy!
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