My International Sleep Talking Husband

The hubs and I recently had the opportunity to visit some of his family members in England.



We had the most wonderful time, and I marked a lot of things off of my bucket list that I had always dreamed of seeing.


Y’all, see how I’m twirling in this gorgeous assembly room in Bath? I’m doing that because JANE AUSTEN DANCED HERE, UNDER THESE VERY CHANDELIERS. I had no chill when we walked into this room.

We also ate a ton of delicious food. I could happily eat scones and clotted cream every day for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, that opportunity has not presented itself.


One of the things I love about traveling is how completely different everything can be from the usual routine. Something new that we used a lot in England was the subway, bus, and rail system. We live out in the woods, in a rural no-mans land between small towns. Our house is right in between three villages, so we have one as our address, another as our school district, and the third is our area code for our phone. It’s like the Bermuda Triangle of mid-western America. Out here in our little wooded paradise I can not use public transportation much. But I think we adapted fairly quickly to English public transportation. I really liked the ease of using the bus system to get around, and I got fairly adept at making transfers. (Fairly adept…I mean, not perfect. It’s not like I wasn’t OBVIOUSLY a tourist…) And, of course we were always careful to find the correct platform and “mind the gap” when getting on and off.

The hubs has not talked in his sleep in some months, so I was startled when he woke me up by loudly talking on our last night in England.

Hubs: Hey, too many on the platform.

Me: Hmm? What’s wrong?

Hubs: I just think there’s too many on the platform. Got to watch out.

Me: Ok, I’ll do that. Anything else?

Hubs: No. Maybe. No, I guess not.

Me: Alright, goodnight, then.

Hubs: Sure. That’s fine.

Then he rolled over and went back to sleep.

I am not certain if the hubs was thinking about the subway or train platform when he was talking in his sleep. It would make sense to me, since it was the only “platform” he had recently been concerned with. But even if he wasn’t, our trip is one that I am sure we will both be dreaming and talking about for a long time to come!


Armchair Olympians

At our house we LOVE the Olympics! Because…well, because it is the OLYMPICS! And it is just fabulous.

This year I basically let the munchkin watch as much Olympics on TV as he wanted to. In typical 3-year-old style, he definitely took advantage of my lax screen time rules.

As we were watching the Olympics the munchkin said some pretty memorable things:

Watching beach volleyball, “When do they play bocce ball?”

As the male gymnasts came out after watching the female gymnasts already, “Where are the girls? Mom, where did the girls go? I want the girls back!”

Still watching the gymnasts, now on the high bar, “I can do that…I can do that…That, too…Mama, I can do that.”

Watching rowing, “Mama, why are they doing that? Mama, really, why are they doing that? I think it must be a race.”

Watching any swimming event, “Daddy, could you do that?”

The munchkin has great faith in the hubs’ athletic ability, as well he should. But there is one ability I think the hubs might be losing as he gets older: I think he might be stopping the sleep talking. What used to be an almost nightly occurrence is now reduced to every few weeks. He only talked in his sleep once during the weeks of the Olympics.

He sat up, shaking his head. “That girl! What are we going to do? THAT GIRL!”

I think he was talking about our dear dog, because it was the same exasperated tone he uses when he is annoyed with her.

So, not a lot of sleep talking about the Olympics this time around, but there is always the winter Olympics! Maybe he will talk about them in his sleep in two years!



Traffic Signals

I am so glad that I have worked hard to provide the munchkin’s with a variety of educational, colorful, and safe toys. That way they can all sit in the toy bin while he plays ONLY with his little cars. The munchkin is obsessed with cars. It does not matter whether he is playing inside, outside, at the library, in the bathtub, at restaurants – he always has a car in hand.

The munchkin likes to point out cars and trucks when we drive places. He also knows about traffic signs and signals and excitedly tells us what to do when he sees one that he recognizes. For example, when he sees a green light he yells, “Green means GO!”

I think it is pretty cute when he does that. It is a little disconcerting though when he sees a red light because he yells, “MAMA!!! STOP!!!!”

Unfortunately he does not understand that we can turn right on a red light. His car seat has been soaked with his tears several times in the last few weeks because Mama or Daddy have turned right on red. He cries from the back seat, “NO! But it’s a red light! Red means STOP!”

It is so sad, and we have tried to explain that it is ok several times, but he just does not get it yet. We have to keep working on those complex traffic rules!

I am not sure what  the hubs was thinking about while he was sleeping the other night, but from what he said it is possible he was thinking about cars, too. We were having a random February thunderstorm, and I was lying in bed listening to the rain and thunder when the hubs sat up suddenly.

Me: You awake? It’s so weird to have a thunderstorm in winter.

Hubs: You’re really booking it, aren’t you!?

Me: What?

Hubs: You were booking it.

Me: What are you talking about? Are you asleep?

But the hubs did not say anything else, so I was left to listen to the rain and wonder what he was talking about in his sleep by myself. I am not sure if he was talking about a car booking it down the street, but I know that if the munchkin talked in his sleep, it would almost definitely be about cars!

Comedic Timing

The hubs and I love to laugh together, and some of our favorite date-nights have been to see comedic stand up acts. My favorite comedian we have seen together is Tim Hawkins, but the hub’s favorite comedic memory is definitely when I surprised him for Valentine’s Day with tickets to see Brian Regan. I have never seen him laugh so much; he got a stomachache from laughing so hard. I think I laughed more at watching the hubs have such a good time than I did at the act!

The other night nothing particularly funny happened before we went to bed, but the hubs started laughing in his sleep shortly after falling asleep. I was lying in bed still awake, miserably wondering when I got so old that leftover Thai food before bed gives me heartburn, when the asleep hubs started to laugh.

Me: What’s so funny?

The hubs laughed, and gave a snort.

Me: Hey, what’s so funny?

Hubs: Oh, nothing.

Me: You don’t laugh over nothing. Now, tell me what’s so funny!

Hubs: I can’t. It’s too complicated.

Me: Oh, really?

Hubs: Yeah. I’ll tell you in the morning.

Me: No, you won’t – just tell me now.

Hubs: I mean, it’s ok. I’ll tell you later, in the morning.

Me: I don’t think you will.

Hubs: Yeah, I will.

Then he rolled over and didn’t talk or laugh anymore. I am not exactly sure what the asleep hubs was laughing at, but I do know that it is one of my favorite sounds, and I do not get to hear it enough. Maybe it is time for another night out with the hubs and Brian Regan!

Seat Lock

When I married the hubs, there was the normal blending of family traditions and idiosyncrasies. One thing his family does that I was not familiar with is “seat lock.” Seat lock is when a person leaves a place where they are sitting, if they yell, “seat lock,” then they get to sit there when they come back. If, say, they don’t know about seat lock because they’ve only been on three dates with a member of the family, they lose their comfortable spot on the couch and have to sit on the floor. Thankfully, it didn’t take me too long to figure out the rules, so I can now defend my comfy chair at family events.

Our little dog is the queen of “seat lock.” Mainly because she only has a few places she likes to sit, and she has made those places so covered with dog hair that no one would want to sit there unless armed with a jumbo lint roller.

The dog lounging in her favorite spot on the couch.

The dog lounging in her favorite spot on the couch.

I think it’s normal to be attached to a particular place, and claim it as your own. This last week I even talked to the hubs about this in my sleep. That’s right, I am the one sleep talking this time.

Apparently, the hubs woke up in the middle of the night to me yelling. He said that our conversation went like this:

Me: It’s my spot…. MY SPOTTTTT!!!!

Hubs: You’re ok, honey, just go back to sleep.

Me: You’re not listening to me. This is my spot!

Hubs: Yes, honey, you’re sleep talking. 

Me: It’s my spot, my spot, my spot!!!

I asked him what he did after all of this commotion, and he said, “I rolled over and went back to sleep as you continued to repeat ‘my spot,’ over and over…. There was no winning.”

Well, ok then. I guess he knew that I would definitely call “seat lock” on this spot that I apparently cared about so much!

Family Ties

One of my favorite family activities around this time of year is the family gathering together to watch Christmas movies. My favorite is White Christmas, the hubs’ is Elf, and the munchkin has a special love of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. We can watch the same videos year after year, and we love spending family time with these great films.

Over a year ago the hubs and I actually were extras in a Christmas movie which was filming near our house. We had a nice afternoon seeing how movies are made and following directions as part of a crowd of extras. When the movie was released on December 1 this year, I searched it out, eager to see if we made it into the film.

I hesitated to purchase the film, however, after I read the reviews of our cinematic debut. These are actual reviews for the movie. Seriously.

“You aren’t going to recognize anyone else in this movie unless you attended church with or went to school with the group of friends behind the production of this low-budget Christmas movie.”

“This movie was painful to get through.”

“[I]f you’re looking for family-friendly, you found it. Only the most puritan of minds would find fault with this well-intended film where every story in the movie gets a happy ending. In fact, the only thing offensive about it is the writing, acting, and production values, which are below the scale of a bad made-for-tv movie.”

“Santa plays more like a dirty old man than a kindly old elf.”

“That is time I can never get back…But please don’t waste your money or time on this lousy movie!”

“Looks like it was shot in a church basement with a camcorder. Awful.”

That last one is my personal favorite because we shot our scenes at a church, including some time in a church basement, although not with a camcorder.

Now, I know that these reviews do not speak to our performances as we sat motionless in the background. However, based on the reviews of our first foray into professional acting, I guess we don’t need to be holding our breath for Hollywood to come knocking. I suppose it is for the best, because I do not think the family canine, delicate princess that she is, would handle fame very well.

The hubs was apparently tuned into the family spirit of the season this week as well when he talked in his sleep. I was having trouble staying asleep one night this week, and got up to get a glass of water. As I was trying to quietly slip out of bed, the hubs suddenly sat up, and turned to me.

Hubs: Well, that’s just unacceptable.

Me: What?

Hubs: Well, your nephew. He chose an event that is three hours long! So, now we have to wait for three hours instead of knowing now.

This was a surprising statement because the hubs and I do not have a nephew.

Me: Oh? So what are you going to do?

Hubs: I guess try to go to sleep.

Me: That sounds good. Anything I can do to help?

Hubs: Yeah, tell your people not to do that!

Me (laughing at how serious he is): Ok, I’ll try, but I don’t think they’ll listen to me.

Hubs: Yeah, I figure.

Me: You figure what?

Hubs: Bunch of crazies.

Me (feeling a little concerned that he thinks “my people” are crazy): What do you mean?

The hubs then pulled the blanket up over his head for a second, then popped his head back out.

Hubs: Just try to control your people.

Me: Ok, I will.

Hubs: I love you.

Me (leaning over and kissing his cheek): I love you, too.

Hubs: I’m all thrown off now.

Me: Oh, you are? Do you want another kiss?

Hubs: Yes, please.

The hubs held up his cheek for another peck, then rolled over.

Hubs: Ok, well goodnight.

Me: Goodnight, buddy.

After this lengthy asleep exchange, I finally got to go get my water. I am not sure why the asleep-hubs thought that I had a nephew. However, if some day we do have a nephew, I’m sure we will include him in the family tradition of watching Christmas movies. Maybe we will even show him the movie that his favorite Aunt and Uncle were extras in…maybe.

Precipitation Problems

The munchkin loves snow. When he wakes up in the morning, we throw open the shades and he looks out, calling, “Snow! SNOW!” Then when we go and run errands he points to the mounds already piling up in the parking lots, saying, “BIG snow.”

The munchkin loves snow so much that he wants to go out and play in it. This takes about twenty minutes to get both of us bundled to the point where we can go out and play. However, as soon as we get out into the snow, he realizes he has made a horrible and cold mistake and cries to go back inside. As soon as we are inside he refuses to take off his boots and hurls his body against the door, yelling, “SNOW!!” This cycle is repeated until the hubs gets home from work and it is time for dinner.

Here is the munchkin crying after I brought him inside, after he cried because he wanted to be brought inside. This is the picture I'm going to show people who ask when we are going to have a second child...

Here is the munchkin crying after I brought him inside, after he cried because he wanted to be brought inside. This is the picture I’m going to show people who ask when we are going to have a second child…

The munchkin’s hot/cold relationship with snow is not the only water problem in our home. The hubs’ sleep talking a few days ago involved precipitation as well.

I had a very bizarre dream recently. In my dream, the hubs was nonchalantly sitting next to me, pouring liquid into tiny glasses, then flinging it on me. This was one of those vivid dreams that seem like almost reality because it felt so real. At that moment, I really felt like water was sprinkling down onto me.

Flash forward to the next evening, the day after my weird dream. The hubs and I were headed out to a function and he turned to me and asked, “Do you remember me pouring water on you last night?”

I told him that I had dreamed that exact thing happening during the night, and would he please explain what he was talking about.

He explained that he, in a sort-of-awake-sort-of-asleep state, had reached over for his cup of water and grabbed it. He then raised his hand to his mouth to take a drink, but instead of the cup only his empty hand reached his face. In his still-asleep-ness he had dropped a full glass of water into the bed and did not even realize it! He said the water splashing all over in his lap woke him right up, and he quickly tried to clean it up, but not before I had gotten a little damp as well.

I have no idea how I stayed asleep through this whole escapade, but my subconscious must have known enough of what was going on to somehow incorporate it into my dream. I am hoping for a quieter week this week with less sleep talking or sleep drinking, but you know what they say: when it rains it pours!

Not Helping

We all do it – try to make a situation better, but actually make it worse. And then the inevitable happens, whoever we are trying to help rolls their eyes and says, “Not helping!” I know I have used that phrase before too. I used it just today when the dog tried to help me put the munchkin down for a nap, but ended up getting herself stuck in the nursery and barked, waking up the munchkin. “Not, helping dog. Not. Helping.”

Sometimes I’m the one who’s very unhelpful, making life difficult for myself. When I take the munchkin to the grocery store, I tend to narrate our shopping trip, to try to build the munchkin’s vocabulary and social skills, saying things like, “Time to get some milk! Milk is white,” and other things like that. So this past week we were at the store, walking past a large display of backyard barbecue foods, and the bottom row was being stocked by a younger gentleman employee of the store.

As we walked by I continued my narration of the shopping trip for the munchkin, “Wow! Look at those BUNS!”

This made the hard working store employee jump, and look up with concern. I realized how this must have sounded to him, and tried to correct my mistake by loudly adding to the munchkin, “For eating! Hamburgers on! Brown buns! AHH, let’s go get toothpaste!”

Not helping, self. Not. Helping. Then I hustled away toward the toiletry aisle, cheeks burning, pride in smithereens on the tile floor. I am my own worst enemy.

Sometimes, albeit rarely, the hubs is the one who is unhelpful. Several weeks ago the munchkin got sick, and was getting up in the night, inconsolable. On one of these sick nights, I went to get him when he cried in the early hours of the morning and came back to the bedroom where I was bouncing him.

Hubs: Oh, he’s up?

Me: Yes, he just doesn’t feel very good.

Hubs: How about I get up and make a bottle for him?

Me: That would be really helpful, thanks.

But the hubs didn’t move, but just laid quietly, while I continued to bounce the baby.

Me: Buddy? Are you going to go make the bottle?


Me: Hey! You aren’t asleep! Aren’t you going to get up?



Not helping, hubs. Not. Helping.

By this time, however, the munchkin had fallen back to sleep being bounced, not actually that hungry after all. So, I maneuvered him back into his crib, where he slept until morning. In the morning when I confronted the hubs about promising to make a bottle and then not actually getting out of bed, he had no idea what I was talking about. He had been asleep for the whole conversation, and was not even aware that the munchkin had been up in the night.

When it comes to my life, sometimes sleep talking is just not helping.


There’s No Place Like Home

Well, we’re back to the blogosphere. Spring has come, the snow has melted, polar vortexes are a distant memory, and I have dug myself out from under a pile of moving boxes, curriculum development documents, and thesis research to resurrect the blog. Much has happened since last fall when I last posted. First, we moved into a house! A real house, with a garage, and a bedroom just for the munchkin, and more than one toilet, and it is wonderful.

Here we are at the new house shortly after moving in. If you haven't moved in the snow, you should try it.

Here we are at the new house shortly after moving in. If you haven’t moved in the snow, you should try it.

Second, the munchkin is doing well, and has grown considerably and walks and talks and does all sorts of things. However, as far as I know he has not yet taken after the hubs’ habit of sleep talking. Third, I graduated and have decided to never go back to school again…for now. Fourth, the dog remains exactly the same as always. It is nice to know that no matter what exciting changes go on in our lives, she stays a constant, just interested in sleeping in the sun.

The other constant in my life amidst the many changes is the hubs’ sleep talking. My little notebook is brimming with tales of his sleep talking, and I am happy to be back to blogging about them. However, I think the hubs’ sleep talking can wait one more week, and this week I should share my own sleep talking episode from a few days ago.

This is apparently how it went down, in the middle of the night:

Me: Really?….Oh, I see.

Hubs: Hmm? What’s up?

Me: No way!

Hubs: Honey? Are you asleep?


And at this point I was yelling. And I yelled so loudly that I actually woke myself up. The hubs was kind enough to tell me I had been talking in my sleep and that I should roll over and just be quiet the rest of the night. As far as I know, that’s exactly what I did.

I’m thinking this was a one time thing, though, and from now on I will have only stories of the hubs’ sleep talking. I hope so, at least – everything else has been changing, it would be a shame to change who is the sleep talker in the family!

House of Horrors

The munchkin loves to hold his Lamb Chop plush toy while being changed. I think it is because it is so soft, and has bright red hands and feet. He holds it and sucks on her ear while I change him. He was doing just that this afternoon, babbling away happily. I finished snapping his onesie and picked up Lamb Chop off of him, to make her dance on his tummy.

That was when I saw it. Sticking out of the munchkin’s mouth, covered in baby drool, was a big, fat, brown wooly caterpillar!

I screamed, grabbed it, and flung it on the floor. I tossed a nearby clean diaper over it and started smashing it as hard as I could. The munchkin thought this was pretty funny, but was not amused when I started washing out his mouth with a soft washcloth. I just could not imagine how a caterpillar had gotten into the munchkin’s mouth! We had gone to the park for lunch, but I had watched him the whole time!

After all of the commotion, I put the clean-mouthed baby on the floor to play while I examined the horrible bug. Would you believe it, when I took off the diaper covering the caterpillar, it wasn’t a caterpillar at all. It was Lamb Chop’s luscious eyelashes! Apparently the munchkin had sucked them right off her face!

Thankfully, they were still in one piece, so it was an easy job to sew them back on to her forehead. I wouldn’t want the munchkin’s favorite stuffed animal to be without her eyelashes, even if they did about give me a heart attack!

It's ok, munchkin. I still love "ewe"!

It’s ok, munchkin. I still love “ewe”!

The hubs had quite a scare today, too. Apparently in the early hours of the morning this morning, the hubs woke up when I sat on his legs and started talking to him.

Hubs: Hon, what are you doing?

Me (searching around the bed): Where’s the baby? I can’t find the baby!

Hubs: What?!? Did you bring him back after feeding him?

Then the hubs heard a rustle on the baby monitor, and realized that the munchkin was still in his crib.

Hubs: Hon, the baby’s still in bed.

Me: Oh.

Then, according to the hubs, I climbed over to my side of the bed and hurled myself down.

Hubs: Wow, you really scared me there. Did you have a bad dream, Babe?


Hubs: Babe? You still awake?

This morning, I had no idea what he was talking about when he mentioned my frantic search in the night for the munchkin. I am glad that both of us got our scary situations straightened out, and they weren’t near as bad as they seemed at first!