beware the sleeping spouse

Lesson #1 on cohabitation: get yourself the biggest bed you can.

A fact of life for me – I bruise like a peach. For as far back as I can remember, I pretty much always have a bruise, usually on at least one leg, usually in the shin area, and I believe my legs look like those of a rough and tumble 8-year-old little boy. Problem is that I have no idea how I get these mystery bruises…although I do remember quite a few times saying, “ooh, that’s gonna leave a mark!” usually immediately following me walking into a corner that I’d successfully managed to walk around unscathed 4 billion times before. (Also if there’s a countertop/table/wall anywhere near me, my arm will suddenly develop a mind of its own and proceed to smack my elbow as hard as possible into said door/desk/chair because I tend to talk with my hands. Well that, and because I’m ridiculous.) But I think I block out most of these moments after they happen because when a bruise appears, I’m shocked at how it always seems to do so magically and without my knowledge until it’s a beautiful shade of plum.

Got all that? K, let’s move on…

In our room, we have a king-sized bed that I had for 5 years before Scott and I moved in together – the same king-sized bed that I slept diagonally on if I felt so inclined. Funny thing is that even though we’re on our 3rd year of living together, I’m afraid I’ll never getting used to sharing a bed at night, particularly because we both move around in our sleep. I’m a roll onto one side, roll onto the other side, roll onto my stomach and repeat sort of sleeper. He’s more of a sleep soundly for 2 straight hours, then jerk around for a second, then sleep soundly for another 2 hours and repeat sort of sleeper. And I am now always consciously aware of his presence throughout the night because although the doggies have learned to run to the foot of the bed as soon as they sense my next full body roll, Sleeping Scotty has not yet gained the 6th sense to duck and cover when I’m about to shift. Call it my nurture instinct if you will, but when it comes to my darling hubby, I don’t want to disturb. Or roll over on. Or smack in the face as I fling my arm over my pillow. Oh, ya, it’s happened.

But how does my sleep flailing pertain to me bruising you ask?

I have a new black and blue mark and this time, I’m pretty sure I know where it came from. I would totally take a picture but, how do I put this, I could take a picture of Hazel’s furry leg and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. Okay, fine, look at my bruise:

So ‘member how I casually mentioned that Sleeping Scotty jerks around for a minute in between his hours of peaceful stillness? Well, the other night around 3am I rolled over in bed for the 82nd time, and I ended up lightly disturbing him which seemed to kick-start his few seconds of jerking – in his sleep he proceeded to readjust the blankets around him, give a little sleeping sigh, smack his lips a few times, and kick me in the shin.

I think it’s safe to say that I know where a few of my bruises came from. So I ask you all, aside from being awakened by the accidental shin kick, eye poke or nose deep-breathing in your face, does the hyper awareness of someone sleeping next to you ever go away?

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4 Comments

Filed under ridiculousness

4 responses to “beware the sleeping spouse

  1. Not for me it hasnt.Im all for the marriage bed,but I find that I actually sleep better alone.My hubby gets kind of upset if he wakes up in the morning and finds me on the couch,(I spend most of the day assuring him that ‘No,Im not mad at you’)but honestly..he keeps me awake.Oh,have you had your iron checked?Might be why you bruise easily.

  2. Jane

    One time a friend stayed over, and we slept in my bed together. I didn’t realize that she was a cuddler, though, so I woke up at about 2 in the morning squished up against my wall with a knee getting to know my ass.

    And another time, when I was with my boyfriend and his family on vacation, we slept in the same bed the last night we were at Padre, and I had him squished up against a wall because I kept kicking, and he needed to duck and cover through the night.

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