Sleep stories

Last night Husband and I are settling into bed when the following conversations takes place.
Him: "Can I spoon you?"
Me: "As long as you don't try to choke me out again."
He laughs.
(I will esplain in a minute)
Me: "For someone who was falling asleep on the couch 5 minutes ago I sure am wide awake now"
Him: "Me too"
5 minutes later...
He's snoring like a chainsaw while I debate the various merits of the new Starbucks remodel.
(I love insomnia)


2 nights ago....
Husband is spooning me and I'm just starting to finally drift off...
The next thing I know I'm jerked awake because Husband has just twitched violently in his sleep and has his arm wrapped around my neck.
(Apparently this phenomenon is called a myoclonic twitch, who knew)
I attempt to roll over but his grip isn't loosening...
Him: "I'm sorry"
Me: "Get off me"
Him: "I'm sorry"
Me: "Just get off me"
He finally rolls away
Him: "I'm sorry"
A few seconds of silence while I rearrange...
Him: "I'm sorry"

He, naturally, remembers nothing about this.
However, he was apparently very sorry about the whole thing.

Sleeping can be very perilous sometimes.

A classic from a few years ago...
Laying in bed trying to fall asleep (do you see a pattern here?)
Out of the blue Husband hums a tune in his sleep.
I swear.
I try not to wake him up but because I'm shaking so violently from trying to not laugh at him the whole bed is shaking and the following conversation takes place:
Him: "What's so funny?"
Me: *snort* "You were humming in your sleep!" *snort*
Him: "Stop being so weird."

As you can imagine he didn't remember a thing the next morning...

I love marriage.

A foray into DIY

I made reusable dryer sheets.

I think I'm officially a hippie.

(and yes, the fabric has frogs, hearts and the word peace on there several times) 

(as if that surprises you) 

Idea taken from here 

I procured my baby wipes container from a friend.

The flannel I found on sale and it cost me a staggering $1.50

I grabbed a bottle of Ecover fabric softener. (because again, I'm a hippie)

Goggled the amounts needed (because even basic math is puzzling to me) and then fudged the numbers anyway. 

I'm happy to report that it has been deemed a success. 

It was a very exciting day. 

Especially because now a bottle of fabric softener will last me until the end of time. 

Hooray!

Joy

Pure joy is gathering up veggies from your garden for juicing...


I'm just saying...

Looking back

Yes, the one screaming her head off is yours truly.

11 long years have passed since that photo was snapped and I got the hell out of dodge.

(I may have been a little excited about the prospect.)

This past weekend Husband and I went back to my hometown for my mom's birthday. 

I like to joke that it's our annual pilgrimage to the place that spawned me. 

(He really should pay his respects to the town that shaped me into the bundle of crazy he fell in love with, I mean really.)

During our visit I pulled out my senior yearbook because I wanted to locate someone who claimed to have known me in high school. (That is a very long and awkward story) (Because I seem to forget people) (Apparently) After completing my tasks (and easing my guilt over not knowing someone who was a freshmen when I graduated) I started reading back over the things people wrote to me in the aforementioned yearbook.

That's when things got weird. 

I had no clue who most of the people were. These people who wrote long paragraphs about how wonderful I was and how much they'd miss me. The people who had scribbled their phone numbers and begged me to keep in touch.

"Growing up is hard on a friendship. There's no revelation in that." - Ann Brashares (Sisterhood Everlasting)

Until Facebook was invented I had absolutely no idea what my long lost former best friends were up to. (Well apart from what my mom would tell me when she ran into their mothers) (small towns are stifling like that) I'm not one of those people who looks back wistfully on their teen years so it never occurred to me that I should miss these people. I didn't attend my 10 year reunion because I had no desire. (Husband on the other hand was pissed that his class didn't have a reunion) Time is funny like that. The people who meant the world to me and I couldn't imagine not being in my life have faded into vague memories. Or have faded completely.

It's weird. This thing they call growing up.

Take it or leave it.

A few days ago one of my nearest and dearest friends and I were talking about the arrival of my birthday present.

I was gifted a set of mala beads from Two Golden Frogs on Etsy by this particular friend.
My whole fascination/interest was sparked by this blog.

The whole scenario lead to an interesting conversation about our individual personalities.

My friend has an "all or nothing" personality type which I admire because her devotion to a subject or interest is so intense that she becomes an expert. Her example, "I couldn't just be a christian, no, I had to be a missionary!"
Me? I'm the complete opposite. I think, for better or worse, my interest or devotion to a subject is limited to what I find useful or interesting and I tend to leave the rest. Some may call it flighty, I call it realistic. This is probably why I never did well with church. I use to feel bad about it but in recent years there's been a shift in my thinking.

Ever since I stumbled across Kris Carr I've started adapting my way of thinking about life, religion, health, & wellness. Her "take what works and leave the rest" approach has had me on friendlier terms with myself then ever.  Sometimes I think you just have to have someone else validate what you've known works for you all along.

For the time being I like to think of my birthday present as more of worry beads then prayer beads because that's what works for me, right now. It gives me a place to put my anxiety/fear/frustration and let go. Ideally I'd like to incorporate them into a regular meditation practice but first they have a greater purpose.

Or as I told my friend, "Rules smules... things only have what value you place in them. And besides they are pretty necklaces if nothing else."

Fail!

It started innocently enough...
I had finally gotten my cooking mojo back.
I had planned a veggie-licious black bean & mango quesadilla.
The instructions said to use the broiler.
I had to call Husband at work to ask if we even had a broiler and more importantly how to use it.
That should have been a sign.
The next thing I know I have flaming quesadillas.
Literally.

Thank god for old quesadilla makers.
Thank god for Husband who slammed the broiler back shut... while I just stood there shouting that dinner was on fire. 

This is why I should not be allowed in the kitchen.