I’m a sleep-walker and talker. Always have been, and my guess would be that I always will be. I’m sure my family hopes that it continues as it has provided SO much entertainment. I’ll share some of the highlights.
As a child my parents would find me perched on the side of the tub like a bird. Sound asleep. Or I would get out of bed and go into the den and talk nonsense to my parents.
As a teenager, I worked retail in the mall, at night I “worked stock” in my closet. I would awake the next morning and find all my clothing hung up, facing the same direction and grouped according to type. I know… sounds like the fantasy of every teenager’s mother, but it’s true. My own daughters did not inherit this propensity for hanging up clothes nocturnally, or during the day for that matter. (Before their protests begin, I will say in their defense they are better as adults.) During that same period I awoke several times some nights to find myself standing up “working the floor”, waiting to help non-existent customers.
In college, I would bathe and wash my hair while asleep and wake up while I was blow drying or rolling my hair with hot curlers. It was a weird feeling. I knew that I had washed my hair but couldn’t remember doing so. I’d check the time and find that it was 2 or 3 am. After a while if my father heard the water running during the night he would come knock on the bathroom door to make sure I really intended to be in the bathtub. You know…awake, the way conscious people do it. And yes, it happened way more than once.
As a new mother I dreamed one night that I was running a zoo for exotic animals. Trouble was I thought my 6 week old baby was a turtle, albeit an exotic one. My husband found me rocking, but not feeding a screaming baby. In my dream, I had agreed to let someone else run my zoo for a day and had promised not to interfere. Thus my dilemma with that hungry, screaming turtle baby, how could I feed her when I had promised I would not? As I was explaining this to Frank, I woke up. For some reason he insisted on me handing him the baby and decided that perhaps he should get up one night a week so that I could get more rest. (Who was I to argue?)
My husband travelled often when our children were young. One night when he was gone I awoke thinking that someone from my household was missing. But who? I decided “Mom” was missing. That would be Mom, as in myself. I got up and opened my daughters’ bedroom door and began quizzing the girls about “Mom’s” whereabouts. Sitting up in bed they began asking each other, “What? What is she talking about? What does she mean?” That’s when I woke up, realized I wasn’t missing after all, said, “Never mind” and closed their bedroom door. I could hear them still talking to each other about what had just happened. They sounded confused and disoriented (go figure!), so I re-opened the door and reassured them by saying, “It’s OK! I forgot I’m the Mom. Go back to sleep.”
I have a way with children.
Several years ago I began taking Ambien for insomnia, perhaps my body fears sleeping, heaven knows I’ve given it enough reason. As you might guess, I now have my own natural bizarre behavior as well as some induced by my sleep aid. My family feels this just adds to the fun.
One night in my altered state I serenaded my husband with Glen Campbell’s hit, “I am a Lineman for the County”. He might have found that disconcerting, if he hadn’t found it so funny. My daughters know to ask if I’ve had my med if I start to not make sense in a late night phone call. But so far I’ve still remembered I’m the Mom.
I’d call that progress.
You entertained me in this way many times during your summer visits. You would wake me up talking and I would vow to remember every word so that it could be passed on to you the next morning–I could remember it happened but not the words. That’s okay though because you would tell me your dreams the next morning and we would laugh till we hurt. Oh, wait a minute, we did that about everything! I love your every blog–the wisdom, the deep feelings, the victory in Jesus. Thanks for sharing dear, dear friend!
We did laugh about everything! Those are some great memories for me. Thanks for the support.!
Oh my gosh Donna, I had no idea you were so funny and talented ^__^ I am some what mad at my sister because she had never told me about your page and I do plan on tattling to Grana when I get off of here. Seriously, you are an amazing woman! I read every one of the stories to Victor, some took longer than others (and it is not because I am a slow reader I know that is what you were thinking) but because I was crying. Victor and I both were touched and inspired and wish that you would write every single day! Nanette told me that she said that you needed to write a book, and I totally agree, and that she would go on the book tour with you. I would say that I would go with the two of you also but I would be forgotten somewhere along the way because food has always been a higher priority than picking up the little sister! Thanks for sharing – love ya!
Janette-you are a funny lady too! Thank you so much for the supportive comments. I can understand your reluctance to travel with Nanette and I, especially since we’re no longer scared of Nelda! You’d be most welcome to come along although I’d have to say that my memory is much worse than it was then. And food is an even higher priority now so it would certainly have to be at your own risk. Don’t worry though I’m pretty sure you have YEARS to think about it!
Donna-So glad to be your friend. I remember your sleep stories. As soon as I saw you were writing this piece I knew it would be funny. I was not disappointed. I would have loved to see Frank’s face as he was serenaded to I Was A Lineman For the County! You haven’t lost your voice in your great stories.
…glad to know about this BEFORE our road trip!
Public disclosure is good for the soul!