Strange Dreams.

Since Nate and I got married I started having crazy dreams. It's not that I think our marriage is related to it - it's just that is when I remember the really weird stuff beginning.

When we lived in our apartment, I distinctly remember several occasions where we would wake up and have been talking to each other - asleep. Several occasions. Many times it was about something I just told Nate I saw, and he was asking me where it was etc. etc.

Nate talks in his sleep. He talks about cars - a lot, yells at employees, and on one specific occasion he yelled at me because I was being mean to him in his dream (go figure, right!) I talk in my sleep - I've done that since I was little. Just ask my sister. No one ever remembers what I say, just that I talk.

Back in the apartment I started a new wave of sleepytime weirdness where I would "hallucinate" and see whatever I was just dreaming about standing in my room. (Hence I would tell Nate what I just saw). So in that room I saw a giraffe, a UFO, a person and many other objects. As soon as I wake up I realize that it's a dream, don't get frightened and just go right back to sleep. That stopped for a while, but now it's back in full force.

Every. Single. Night for weeks I have seen something in our room. (Creepy, I know.) And believe me, while I don't like seeing this stuff, it doesn't really scare me. I wake up - realize it wasn't real and go back to sleep.

Only this week I have seen people standing beside me. Yes, weird creepy men that I DON'T know watching me sleep. And, my most horrifying one was for two nights I saw dementors (Azkaban guards in Harry Potter) standing at the foot of my bed. One was covered in Cheetos.

I wake up with an "ahh" or "NATE" or ya know some sort of alert, realize I'm retarded and go back to sleep. I would say that I think Nate doesn't appreciate it, but he never remembers it happening and rarely wakes up anyway. (My protector sleeps like a rock.)

I was telling a few girls at lunch about it yesterday and someone said that I'm having "night terrors." Now - the only occasion I've ever heard of night terrors is with Travis Pastrana who screams and sees horrible things all night long to the point that none of his motorcross friends will even sleep in the same room as him. - He sees dead babies in fireplaces and dreams people are trying to kill him. THAT my friends, is a night terror.

Though I don't know what to call my "specialness" it doesn't seem to be a terror to me. I've started to notice that it mainly (or possibly only) happens when I'm awoken from a dead sleep. Like if Bailey moves at the foot of the bed or if Nate turns over. They say that you only remember your dreams that you wake up during so maybe my tired little brain can't decipher between sleep and awake when I'm startled and therefore I see whatever I was just dreaming about in my room. That's fine. I can deal with that, but what does that say about my dreams though?! Why can't I see happy things? Puppies. Babies. Family Members. Anything.

Does anyone else have weird dream/sleep time issues? Or am I totally alone and really weird on this one!?

Persistent Polly.

My dog is a Persistent Polly. Every morning a precisely 5:45 a.m. she scratches at her crate door to let Nate and I know she’s ready to get in the bed with us for a morning snuggle before a long day of solitude while we’re at work (sad, I know.) Feeling so bad for her, we (well mainly Nate) oblige and always get up and put her back in bed with us. She sniffs, scratches, wiggles and squirms and then finally finds a way to get as close as physically possible to one of us. This often involves her curling up to my back and laying her head across my neck. I love her at 5:45.

Evidently I am a light sleeper in the morning. Just about the time I get good and asleep again, my alarm clock goes off at 7:00 a.m. Grrreat. I am a snoozer. Always have been, and likely always will be. Pre-Bailey I swear those were the best seven minutes of sleep I got. Snoozing is no longer fun.

With the first ring of my alarm clock, dog is UP and moving. It is time to eat, NOW. I try and try to get her to lie back down for just five more minutes. Beg and plead that she stop pawing at my face for just a minute, but she doesn’t get it. She walks up and down our bodies, paws at us, growls, and will even stand on my head if necessary. Twenty pounds, and evergrowing - this is not comfortable.

But, I am stubborn, so I stick it out and get my extra snooze minutes and then wearily drag myself out of bed and get Bailey’s day going. And dog is happy.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we really wanted something, say a raise, if we could just walk up and down our bosses back and growl at them until they gave us what we wanted? It’s a dogs life.