I honestly wish I could make this stuff up…

Like so many great couples, the hubs and I are in many ways, opposites. He likes meat and potatoes, I prefer a good green vegetable. He plays sports with ease, I have trouble just walking from the gym parking lot to yoga class without falling. He can remember phone numbers he used once for years, I would forget my own if it was not written down in my wallet. He is a nighttime throat-yeller, I have never throat-yelled in my sleep.

What is throat-yelling? Oh, that’s right. I forget that the rest of the world is not married to someone who becomes a crazy person when they go to sleep.

"It's much too early to have my picture taken. Go away!"

I made up the term “throat-yelling” to be able to describe to the hubs about one of the many things he does in his sleep. He does not throat-yell very often, maybe once a month, but he did it several nights this past week. Therefore, it seemed like an appropriate time to tell you all about it.

How can I even describe throat-yelling? It sounds like if Beaker were tied up and gagged and could not open his mouth, but only make noises in his throat. Except that the hubs’ throat-yelling is lower pitched; maybe it sounds more like a didgeridoo from Australia. Basically, the hubs starts talking loudly in his sleep, but he never opens his mouth; he keeps his lips closed and does not move his tongue at all. It sounds like a conversation, with pitches changing in his throat and breaks between “words,” but no words are formed. He can go on like this for several minutes at a time, and it gets surprisingly loud even though he keeps his mouth closed.

"I'm not even in the blog this week. You just want a picture of me 'cause I'm so cute. I feel so used!"

Back in the day, I thought that this noise meant something horrible was happening, like he was choking in his sleep. Once I figured out he was just throat-yelling I started to try to answer him to see what he would do, doing my own throat-yelling back to him when he would pause. However, this never yielded any satisfactory results. As soon as I would start throat-yelling he would stop. So now I just let him be, throat-yelling into the night.

"No, no I'm sorry but no photos this morning. Maybe later after I've had some breakfast and a walk, but only if it's a very long walk."

As I write this I realize how ridiculous it is: I am married to a nighttime throat-yeller. I literally wish that I had made this up… Then I would have the most awesome imagination ever. But alas I did not. I would invite all of you over to our apartment when the hubs is sleeping to hear this illusive phenomenon except that our bedroom is too small to fit you all. Not to mention it would be incredibly creepy and weird for you all to be there while we sleep.

"Peanut butter? Well of course. If I get some peanut butter that's a completely different matter! Take all the pictures you want."

There are very few things that I find funny in the early morning hours. Thankfully for our marriage, the hubs’ cacophony of throat-yelling is one of them.

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I’m braver than I think…wait, no. No, I guess I’m not.

I hate to be scared. I hate it  more than I hate to be cold, more than I hate the sound of nails being filed, and even more than I hate the smell of fish sticks.  And there is nothing I find scarier than a scary movie. I do not technically “watch” scary movies. I more sit in a room with my head buried into my husband’s chest with a pillow pulled over my ears while a scary movie is shown on a nearby TV.

This is how the dog watches scary movies. Look at how brave she is: she can actually look at the screen.

Monster movies, psychological thrillers, slasher films, they all scare me out of my mind. This past week the hubs was gone for a business trip so I should have known better than to watch anything scary right before bed. But I foolishly watched a particularly scary episode of a certain show that I like, which will remain nameless. (Here’s a hint, it rhymes with “hassle.” And it has the guy from Firefly in it. There, that’s two hints.) And it was really scary, and ended on a cliff-hanger, and the CIA may be bad guys and not actually the CIA and then it ends with someone getting shot! So after watching this terrifying episode I climbed into my hubs-less bed and was so scared I couldn’t sleep.

Thankfully, I had reinforcements cleverly hidden in a seldom used tote bag on the second shelf down in my closet. I had to bring out the big guns: my teddy bear. Yes, it’s true; when the hubs is gone and I start to get scared and can’t sleep I, a grown person who pays bills and does adult type things, pull out my dear little bear.

"Sweet Halloween Dreams," by Alex Panagop

(To those of you out in internet land now judging my bear-snuggling, I say nothing, but I look at you with shark-eyes and give you the silent treatment. The hubs can attest to the fact that my silent treatment can last for some time, so you might as well stop judging.)

The Ted - Keeping me safe from scary movies for decades

Thankfully, with the bear there I was able to fall right to sleep. And with the hubs being gone I got to sleep all the way through the night with no sleep-talking interruptions.

The hubs is the opposite of me, he’s not scared of anything. He’s brave and strong and I highly doubt he has a stuffed animal stashed somewhere in the apartment that he pulls out when I am gone overnight. Last week he proved his bravery yet again as he lectured me about monsters in his sleep.

I was laying in bed, in that in between phase of almost asleep but a tiny bit awake. All of the sudden the hubs thrashed around and started talking loudly.

Hubs: You gave me a monster, and it’s the wrong type!

Me: What? What are you talking about?

Hubs: Well, you know there are different types, and this is a MATERIAL monster. Don’t you know that? It’s not the right type of family… Of monsters…

(I started to laugh at him.)

Hubs: Why are you laughing? It’s not funny, and I’m trying to go to sleep!

Me: Babe, you are asleep!

Hubs: No, I’m not asleep! I’m awake! It’s just that you don’t understand how important the monsters are!

Me (cracking up): No, you’re definitely asleep.

Hubs: No! I just wish that you would take the material monsters more seriously!

(I snorted into my pillow, it was so funny.)

Hubs: And I’m awake. I’d LIKE to go to sleep though, once you figure out the monster!

Me: Oh, dear. (chuckle) Hon, you are definitely asleep.

Hubs (turning away from me angrily): I’m not asleep. You just gave me a monster and it’s the wrong FAMILY!

I kept laughing for some time, but he didn’t say anything else.

Oh, my hubs. Thankfully his musings about monsters were just funny, not at all scary. But with him there to protect me, I could never be scared of anything.

Pretty bird! Can you say pretty bird?

My Sleep Talking Husband is on Twitter! Because the hubs talks more than once a week, but it’s not normally “blog-worthy.” But I think much of it is “Twitter-worthy!” For example, it’s hard to write a blog post around the time he threw his arm around me and declared, “You’re important!” in his sleep. But that would make an awesome Tweet!

You can follow us on Twitter @mysleeptalkhubs or check out the new Twitter feed in the right hand column of the blog. I’ll be updating at least once or twice a day, so check back often!

P.S. Who knows what movie the title of this post is a quote from? (Here’s a hint, the hubs loves this movie and I HATE it. But I love him so I watch it…) 176 highly valuable My Sleep Talking Husband points for the person who comments with the title first!

The Heavenly Father is interested in photography?

In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety. – Psalm 4:8

This passage was not true in our house this week: there was certainly no peace when I tried to go to sleep! I was sleeping soundly one night late last week and woke up to the hubs mumbling in his sleep.  I was still pretty groggy but could hear him talking about something quite intensely.

Hubs (mumbling): Shermerssssslon…

Me: Huh… what?

Hubs: It’s a perfect likeness.

Me: What? What’s wrong?

Hubs: It’s a perfect likeness!

Me: What are you talking about? Is someone taking our picture?

Hubs: Well, yes! Only our Savior!

Me: Wait a minute… Are you saying… umm, is Jesus taking our picture?

Hubs: Yes – duh! And it’s a perfect likeness!

Me: I don’t understand. Why is Jesus taking our picture?

Hubs: It’s just… such a great likeness…

Me (starting to laugh my head off): I don’t get it, hubs.

Hubs (mumbling again): Slefersonkoo…

I see a lot of red letters here, but nothing about photography...

I laughed so hard at the hubs’ insistence that Jesus was taking our picture. I was afraid that my giggling might wake him up; I had to slip out of bed and sneak into the bathroom to laugh at him. Love is patient, love is kind, love is getting out of bed in the middle of the night so as not to disturb your husband as you laugh at his sleep talking.

The Buttcrack of Dawn

It was mostly a quiet week. The hubs mumbled a few times, but nothing of note except for… the incident. Faint of heart, read no more! Squeamish, look away! What follows may be extremely upsetting to more than one party.

I was sleeping quite soundly one night this week, when I was jolted awake in the early morning hours by someone pinching me. It was the completely asleep hubs, and he was pinching my… well, you see it was my… Oh, dear. What is the appropriate term to describe one’s own backside on the internet?

Rump? Derriere? Peaches? Bottom? Rear? Buttocks? Butt? ‘Tocks? Watermelon? Behind?

I call the dog's "fluffenbutt"... that doesn't really seem appropriate either

Buns? Seat? Tush? Bum?

You get the idea. He was pinching that repeatedly, and very hard. It was not pleasant to wake up to!

Me: What are you doing?!?!

Hubs is still pinching so I knock his hand away.

Me: Stop it! Why are you doing that!

Hubs: I have no control over it.

Me: What?!? Well, then who does?

Hubs: Oh… maybe someone… it’s really someone else.

Me: Who? And whoever it is, they need to stop! That hurts!

Hubs: My, you’re being awfully grumpy. Really, just quite a grump.

Then he rolled back over and didn’t say anything else. At the time I did not find it funny at all. My… well, you know… was too sore! And I think I’m very patient with his nighttime antics, certainly I’m not a grump! So I pulled the covers to my side of the bed and made a little blanket cocoon.

In the morning the hubs told me that I had been talking in my sleep. Apparently he woke up and I was curled up under all the blankets mumbling how I am certainly not a grump.

The End