Domestic Psychology

Cold feet

// April 21st, 2012 // No Comments » // me, sleep

My feet are perpetually cold. While it’s not a new development that would warrant sudden concern about my circulation, my uncomfortably icy feet have gotten progressively more noticeable as the clock spins faster. Frozen feet are at their most annoying when I am trying to sleep. I toss and turn to get comfortable enough to fall asleep only to be awakened repeatedly in the night by my frosty toes.

Your significant other might claim that they will always allow you to rub your cold feet against their warm skin. Don’t be fooled. There will come a day when the slightest touch of your frigid toes causes the normal foot temperature person to coil up as far away from you as possible in the limited space of your shared bed.

Last week, I pulled my I-must-not-have-lifted-with-my-knees heating pad out and put it under my feet. Several hours later, I awoke in the same ‘two pillows propping up my head for an hour of tv watching’ position that I was in when I slipped the heating pad under my feet. Warm feet are the magical sleep switch that I have been searching for my entire life.

I’m still going to put my cold feet on Doug’s warm skin when he dozes off mid-conversation. That never stops being funny.

Hot spot

// January 23rd, 2012 // No Comments » // pets, sleep

I don’t run a fever. Ever. I think it’s because my feet act as a refrigerator. Well, they’re normally a fridge, but in the winter, my feet are ice cubes. Frozen feet make getting comfortable enough to sleep next to impossible. Your spouse may promise to love, honor and warm your feet, but that last part is quickly forgotten and replaced by, “Get those frosty toes away from me!”

So, I sleep with a heating pad under my feet. It’s more relaxing than warm milk. As the temperature in my feet rises, I fall deep asleep. Deep, drooling sleep that is only disrupted by the temperature in my feet dropping back to miserably cold. Cold caused by theft of my spot on the heating pad. The first night my hot spot was stolen, I thought it was an accident. The second night, I realized that I was being targeted for gradual and deliberate foot abuse.

We have two large German Shepherds. They are the very best of friends despite the fact that one does all the thinking for the both of them. It’s not that the other dog is stupid as much as she is lacking any awareness of past or future. In her world, there is only this moment. She can walk in the house, notice the front door, and decide she needs to see what’s on the other side of the door even though she just walked in that door. Life is perpetually new and exciting to this dog.

So, when the short bus dog stretched, rolled, and readjusted herself repeatedly until I had been nudged off the heating pad and she was snoring on it, I initially thought it was a coincidence. When she repeated her carefully planned sneak attack on the hot spot, I recognized that we have discovered this dog’s special talent. Our dog is a genius at making herself comfortable.

Unless there are dog safe heating pads, I think we need to invest in an electric blanket. My power struggles with the comfort dog are not amusing the husband OR the other dog.

Endlessly fascinating

// January 4th, 2012 // 1 Comment » // aspergers, sleep

Aspie Caveman has developed a 48-hour sleep schedule. He spends 32 hours awake, followed by 16 hours of hibernation.

Sometimes, I understand his thought processes and logic. This is not one of those times.

Evan says:

// August 16th, 2011 // No Comments » // kid quotes

“If I go to your bed now, I won’t have to walk downstairs in the middle of the night to crawl between you and daddy.”

Who needs alarm clocks

// November 19th, 2010 // No Comments » // children, parenting

Best ways to wake up:
Amy insisting that I feel her socks. “They’re so fluffy!”
Evan singing a Turkey song. “Gobble, gobble, gobble.”
The smell of bacon cooking in the kitchen.”

Worst ways to wake up:
“I think I swallowed my loose tooth.”
“Noah’s having a nosebleed.”
The smell of urine.

Best snooze button:
A small child snuggled up against me because they know I won’t interrupt the snuggle time for any numbers on a clock.

water critics

// November 27th, 2009 // 2 Comments » // preschoolers, sleep

Besides the ridiculous habit of someone having to sit beside Evan until he falls asleep every night, both Evan and his sister demand a cup of water at their bedside. I’m sure it’s because I allowed them to nurse themselves to sleep or something else I did wrong, but as with many things, this is not a battle I want to fight right now. Lately, the cup of water has evolved into something of a drink order.

Evan: “I need a cup of water with THREE ice cubes.”
Amy: “I need a cup of water with ONE ice cube.”

When you tiptoe back in their dark room and put the cup of water beside the bed, a tiny hand immediately grabs it. shake, shake, shake

“That feels right. Thanks.”

If you wait too long and the ice melts . . . it gets sent back to the chef.

bedtime routines

// October 20th, 2009 // 1 Comment » // preschoolers, sleep

When Evan graduated out of the crib, he made it abundantly clear that without a cage to contain him, he was not going to remain still long enough to fall asleep. Every night since then, someone gets in the teeny bed with Evan and snuggles up next to him until Evan is asleep. Usually, the bedtime assistant has to say “Shhh” a few times. Sometimes, the bedtime assistant has to ask Evan to quit kicking the wall. Occasionally, the bedtime assistant has to drape an arm over Evan as if they are a bed harness. More often than not, the assistant just remains completely still and silent while hoping that Evan falls asleep before the assistant nods off. If the assistant falls asleep before Evan, game over. Evan wins.

Yes, I know that Evan should have learned to stay in bed and fall asleep on his own by now. Honestly, it is just not a battle worth fighting. As long as Evan falls asleep by 8 pm, life is good. Usually, the bedtime assistant job alternates between Sarah and Noah. They are able to get Evan to sleep in about ten minutes and rarely have a problem. When they aren’t home, Doug and I take turns. Doug usually nods off and sleeps for an hour. When it’s my turn, I alternate between my mind racing with all the things I should be doing and accidentally falling asleep.

Last night, I was Evan’s bedtime assistant simply because everyone else was out of the house. Well, not everyone. Amy was at home. Before I tucked Evan in bed, I told Amy her choices were cleaning her room and reading in bed. Once I was nestled beside Evan, I had to remain completely still and quiet. Noise and movement just charge Evan’s batteries and it takes him even longer to relax and sleep. Listening to the rhythm of Evan’s breathing, I knew that he was faking sleep and plotting his escape. I didn’t dare move. Then, I heard it. The sound of Amy singing songs that only she knows, crept under the door and I tried to ignore it. Then, the songs got louder and sillier. Evan started humming his own little happy song. I tried telepathically asking Amy to sing quietly, but of course, that didn’t work. Evan’s feet started tapping. I made a long, slow “shhhh” that sounded like a leaky beach ball compared to Amy’s singing. Slooooowly, Evan’s body relaxed, his breathing slowed and he fell deep asleep.

I tip-toed out of the room and stomped in Amy’s room. Before I could even get my hand on my hips in the lecture pose, Amy looked up from her toys and smiled at me. My heart melted into a pile of useless goo and I smiled back. Happy songs > Sleep

Evan says:

// May 26th, 2009 // No Comments » // kid quotes, parenting, preschoolers, sleep

Me: “Evan, you should close your eyes and rest.”
Evan: “I can’t. I won’t be able to see.”

He still talks with a lisp and has zero impulse control, but he sounds like a 4-year-old.

Finish your homework yet?

// May 5th, 2009 // No Comments » // flickr, sleep

She said: I need a blanket

// February 27th, 2009 // No Comments » // Doug, marriage, me, sleep

Last night, Doug and I had two children AND two dogs in our bed. We were packed in the bed like Charlie Bucket’s grandparents IF they had added two small horses to their overcrowded bed. I was relegated to a tiny space on the edge of the bed and pinned down by 100+ pounds of German Shepherd. Eventually, I nodded off to sleep.

I usually forget my dreams shortly after waking. I only remember bits and pieces. The only thing I remember about my dream last night is the bees. A few ordinary bees were buzzing about the room, but there was also a jar of bees. The bees in the jar were getting larger by the second and I was so increasingly panicked by the impending escape of the mutant bees that I woke myself up, swinging my arms wildly to keep the bees away from me. Except, I wasn’t really awake at all. I was frantically trying to pull the covers over myself to hide from the bees when the children and dogs had claimed all the covers. I cursed like a sailor and begged for a blanket. At some point, I realized there were no bees, but I was still unable to focus on anything except the dog pinning me down and my need for a blanket. I was aware that Doug was out of bed, seeking a blanket, but in my mind, he was moving in slow motion and mumbling to himself that I should get my own *&%# blanket. Doug tossed the blanket on me and grumbled at the dogs to move over while I hid under the blanket and uncharacteristically fell back into a deep slumber.

I would claim that I wasn’t awake for any of my bad behavior, except I remember the entire incident vividly. I apologize for the bizarre stream of profanities, but someone needs to be faster with the blanket when I’m being attacked by bees dagnabit.