Sleep Turrets

In five years of blogging I don’t think I’ve ever gone 4 months without blogging. I mentioned back last September about the guilt that comes from not blogging once a week after putting so many years of work into it and I’m not going to bore you once again only to abandon it only to feel guilty the next time etc…etc… etc….

First off a quick recap: The holidays were a blur of kids running wild, wrapping paper covering entire rooms, and one snow storm after another. It was cool waking up to a white Christmas (something I don’t recall ever seeing), Adam had a blast that day we got 13 inches, then as week after week brought yet another storm all that snow got real old real fast. Oh and we passed around a stomach virus for two weeks, got claustrophobic, and went to the McWane Science Center.

Now on to the point of what has pulled me out of my blogging coma….I have sleep turrets. It sounds funny but honestly at least twice a week I fall asleep on the couch only to wake up alone in the wee hours of the morning. The next day I wake up to hear how I went all Jekyl and Hyde on Mandy all the while having no memory of what was said. This does put a cramp in my marriage at times, but Mandy is used to it and I proved long ago I literally have no earthly idea of the foul vicious things I say in my slumber. Unfortunately Friday night I turned the monster loose on Adam.

The quick story is that Mandy went to bed early, Adam was still up, and I was left on the couch to watch some random show….then it gets fuzzy. I remember Adam standing in front of me, then he walked away….then he may have come back…and I think he left crying that time….I finally came to around 2 a.m. with a ton of guilt sitting on my stomach.

The next morning Mandy and I decided to interrogate the little guy to see if there were any scars. “How did you sleep? Did you like your cartoon last night? Did we hear you crying?” All we got was fine fine good fine. Which is 4 yr old speak for “Hush I’m watching Krypto”

So for the moment I am breathing easy praying that nothing was said out of the ordinary that night, but I just know twenty years from now we will all be sitting around the dinner table and suddenly he’ll blurt out how he spent weeks afraid to come into the living room after bed time for fear I might unleash a string of abuse upon him.