Nighttime Rituals

Right now I am supposed to be studying for a math test. I can think of about 1000 other things I'd rather be doing besides studying for anything, let alone math, and blogging just sounds like a way better idea right now. So I'm going to stop looking at fractions (yeah, that's right, 6th grade math - doesn't matter, I still hate it) to tell you a story.

I love my husband. Having said that, you should know that every once in a while he annoys the heck (hell) out of me. These moments of annoyance come at a time of day that I hold dear in my heart. A time of day that I wish would last forever. Sleep time. It's hard to be mad at the guy when he has no control over the fact that he's screaming/farting/burping/laughing/talking/playing football/dancing/catching bad guys/elbowing me in the face/pulling my hair in his sleep, but it's starting to get out of hand.

We are night people, mostly because of our schedules. We go to bed around 2-3 and wake up around 10-11. Last night I was so tired. I couldn't wait to take a nice long shower and then crawl into bed and sleep as long as I could. After my shower I got all ready for bed and walked into the bedroom. I saw Rick laying there, asleep, with his glasses on, his phone in his hand, and surrounded by a fort of pillows. This is exactly how I find him every night. And this is the conversation that we have.

"Rick. Wake up. Take your glasses off, plug your phone in. Give me back my pillow. Lets say prayers."

"What? WHAT?! What's wrong? Are you okay? What's going on? Where do I need to go? I don't understand what we're doing."

"Just take off your glasses, plug your phone in, and you can go back to sleep."

"Okay but I just don't understand what we're doing. Do you need me to go somewhere? Are we getting up? I was asleep and now it going to take me forever to fall back asleep."

"TAKE OFF YOUR GLASSES AND PLUG IN YOUR PHONE."

"Oh okay."

He removes his glasses, which will magically appear on his face in the morning when we wake up. We're still working on how to get him to not put them back on in his sleep. He plugs his phone in, and now he's upset that he's "awake" and it will take him "forever" to fall back to sleep.

"Lets say prayers."

"Okay. Dear Heavenly Father..." And then he incoherently mumbles what sounds like a play by play action of what is happening in his current dream. This goes on for about 4 minutes.

"Amen."

Before his head hits the pillow, he is snoring. I get in bed, and we struggle with the blankets for a good 6 minutes. I like to sleep under the blankets. He likes to put them all on his side of the bed and sleep on top of them. Once he finally gets under the blankets he complains that it's "too hot to sleep under the blankets." I remind him that he doesn't have to sleep under the blankets, he just can't lay on top of them, leaving none for me. I also remind him that he would be less hot if he took off his pajamas and socks. The response I get is a snore. Sometimes a burp, but usually a snore.

It's probably somewhere around 3am. You know that moment where you know you are just about to fall asleep? For the next 30 minutes I have about 10 of those moments, only to be interrupted by a laugh, a yell, him kicking off the blankets, or a poke in the eye followed by me yelling "OW!" and him saying "I was just trying to cuddle." Since I wear the kind of contacts that you can sleep in, I may or may not have to get up at this point and fix my contact that may or may not have folded in half and rolled behind my eyeball. Happened more than once.

Finally, sleep comes. And I am loving every second of it. Until about 6 am, when the stench of death caused by the bowels of hell awaken me. Disgusted, I make a mental note to make Rick sleep in the guest bed every night that he eats Betos. I try to suffocate myself in my pillow, but I am able to fall asleep again eventually. Until 8 am comes. The birds are chirping, the sun is out, and Rick is playing steamroller in his sleep. Oh, and his glasses are back on. Incredible.

I say some swear words in my head, and go back to sleep. And then 11 am comes and my everyday alarm clock wakes me up. That alarm clock would be the kids from the daycare next door, screaming. Sometimes Rick is already up and sometimes he is still asleep. If he is asleep, the sheet is completely twisted between his legs and it takes both of us to untangle him, if he is awake, I go out and find him, and he talks about how he slept "sooooooooooo gooooooood!" last night.

Tonight he is working a double, which means he won't be home until 7 in the morning. I get the whole bed to myself.

Hallelujah.