Domestic Psychology

brain drain

// April 5th, 2013 // No Comments » // children, sleep

Sometimes, Sawyer asks to snuggle. Most of the time, this means he wants to sit in my lap. I then carefully nudge him to talk, only to discover that he isn’t upset about anything. He just needed to be held for a while. I would put down a fire extinguisher and let the stove burn if Sawyer asked me for a snuggle. The snuggles mean everything to me.

Yesterday, Sawyer informed me as he left for school that he would need a snuggle when he got home. “This snuggle needs to be under the hot blanket.” Sawyer adores our nearly dead electric blanket (Gimli!) and I really need to get Sawyer his own electric blanket before next winter.

Sawyer arrived home from school and we tucked ourselves in my bed. Sawyer asked to play his current game obsession on the iPad. I decided that this snuggle wasn’t stress related and we proceeded to chat about his game.

“Do you know what cobblestones are?”
“Yes.”
“Well, they’re bunches of rocks all stuck together and I have 37 of them.”
“Cool. What do you do with them.”
“Nothing right now. I need to kill chickens to make more arrows.”
“Can you catch and breed chickens or do you have to hunt them.”
“Well, this one time, I captured wolves and blah-blah-blah.”

I still don’t know if you can have a farm in the game. The warm blanket and Sawyer’s soft voice lulled me to sleep. The next thing I remember is SuperTween’s face four inches from mine as she loudly announced, “I texted dad and told him you are sleeping.”

dreaming of wakefulness

// January 15th, 2013 // No Comments » // kid quotes, sleep

As I tucked the edges of the blanket that would soon be kicked to the floor under Sawyer, he asked me to lean close so that he could tell me something important. I tilted my head and put my ear near his face. Sawyer popped his arms out of the blanket cocoon and turned my face so that our noses were touching.

“Sweetie, mommy hears with ears.”
“I already know that mom. I need to tell you something now.”
“Okay. I’m listening.”
“Mom, I never fall asleep. I just sit in the bed waiting for it to be time to get out of bed.”
“I understand. Maybe you should make up a pretend story in your head while you are waiting. Put yourself in the book you just finished reading.”
“Cool!”

I put his clothes for morning in the cubby with his backpack. I put snacks in backpacks and checked the seasonal appropriateness of the outfit that his big sister had chosen for the next day. I went back to check on Sawyer.

The blanket was on the floor and Sawyer was snoring like a sleeping dragon.

old AND boring

// January 13th, 2013 // No Comments » // marriage, sleep

Did I ever mention that we had the house to ourselves for two full hours this weekend and we slept the entire time? Oh. Well then… nevermind.

Tales from the family bed

// January 6th, 2013 // 1 Comment » // kid quotes, sleep

Part one:

Sometime between midnight and two in the morning, Sawyer crawls in our bed to snuggle, twirl and steal blankets. It’s something he has always done. The only change in this routine is that for the past year, instead of immediately crawling between us, he stands beside sleeping Dad and softly whispers, “Can I sleep in your bed?” Now, Sawyer’s changing the routine again.

“When I come downstairs tonight, can I get in bed without asking Daddy?”
“Of course you can. Just crawl in and go back to sleep.”
“When I try to ask Daddy, he always jumps out of bed and goes, ‘Gah! What? Gah!‘ Then, you get woke up and I don’t like you getting woke by Daddy going ‘Gah!’ so, I think I should skip Daddy.”
“I agree baby.”

Part two aka The next day:

“Can we get a dumbwaiter?”
“Why do we need a dumbwaiter?”
“If we had a dumbwaiter, I could ride to your bed instead of walking down the stairs in the dark.”
“Maybe Daddy should put a laundry chute in and you could just slide to the basement every night.”
“That sounds awesome! Tell Daddy to build that! Today!”

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.