Getting up at 4:15 this morning for my date with a treadmill was very hard. As I was trying to slog through my 3 mile run on that $8&;% treadmill (have I mentioned how much I hate to run on a treadmill??) in between deciding on what outfit I could wear that didn't require ironing and how I could sneak out at lunch to avoid having to come up with lunch, I realized that I didn't get much sleep last night.
You see I have this problem. I talk and walk and do odd things in my sleep. And last night I remember waking up and sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at the sliding glass door and thinking that it looked weird and that I needed to fix it.
Yes...at 12:30 a.m. I needed to fix the sliding glass door.
Rich tells me all kinds of stories about how I wake up in the middle of the night. Sometimes I am choking. I mean violently coughing. I sometimes remember these episodes and then remember him stroking my hair and telling me I am going to be OK and getting me to lay back down. Sometimes I talk to him, and sometimes I just startle myself.
Sounds very amusing doesn't it.
I have always done weird things when I am sleeping. Mostly it is just having conversations that I don't remember. However, there was one time I thought the ceiling was coming down upon me, similar to the scene in Star Wars where the walls start to come together when they are in the garbage bin with that big slimy snake thing, but only different. Andrew was walking up the stairs and must have startled me because I suddenly felt the need to jump down the stairs and save him, probably breaking both of our legs but avoiding being crushed by my apparent Star Wars-esque fate, but I quickly realized that Bella was sleeping in the same room and I needed to save her first.and woke up enough to realize the reality before I got to her bed.
Phew...and all Andrew could say to me was "Mom are you having a seizure?"
He obviously did not appreciate my extreme love for him or remember how upset Chewbacca was when the pole wouldn't stop the walls and they were about to be crushed.
My loving brothers used to take full advantage of my condition when I would come home from college. You see my bedroom was the first one off the hallway across from the kitchen and my brothers, still in high school, would be up late studying (wink wink) and would come into my room when I was asleep just to see if I would talk to them.
Ah, the joys of having younger brothers only 21 months apart.
Now I am afraid that I have passed this sleep disorder on to my son. You see when I go to wake him up in the morning I am often greeted with absolute coherent nonsense.
Me: Andrew honey it is time to wake up (gently rubbing his back)
Andrew: OK mom...but I first need to finish making up my starting pitching rotation.
Me: (realizing that my son isn't quite awake although eyes are open and he is looking right at me) OK honey you can finish that as soon as you get out of the shower.
Andrew: NO MOM IT HAS TO BE DONE NOW (caps = stern voice)
Me: OK honey just wake up and we can get it done
Andrew: NO MOM YOU JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND THE IMPORTANCE OF SETTING YOUR PITCHING ROTATION.
Talk about stating the obvious.
We usually get a good laugh out if it all and a couple of nights ago at the dinner table we all sat and shared our Amy/Andrew wake us up comedy routines at great length.
I am glad that I am such a source of laughter.
I am glad that I have passed on the late night entertainment gene to my son.
Future wife can thank me later.
More Later
- A Ro
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I was a sleepwalker as a child. Which was fine until I locked myself out of the dorm wearing my striped flannel footed pajamas with the flap in the back.
ReplyDeleteEek.
I've never met an adult sleepwalker, though. That's pretty freaky. In a nice way.
I read a blog called Sleep Talking Man. Apparently his wife records his utterances in the night - & I've got to say, they're pretty funny (if a bit ribald). Maybe you should do the same thing.
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