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Archive for the ‘sleep’ Category

to sleep …

and dream lots of really weird dreams.

This was my day yesterday: I slept. I hate when that happens.

I seem to have a bit of a cold and coughing kept me up late Friday night, but when J woke me up at almost 10 am, I’d had pretty much 9 hours sleep, which should be enough for anyone. It didn’t feel like it. I felt really dopey. We started getting ready for synagogue, but discovering Boo had a fever derailed that one. She wanted me to lie in my bed with her, so I got my newspaper and propped myself up to read. Next thing I knew, she was gone and Maya was accusing me of going back to sleep. The nerve! I assured her I was just resting my eyes, then tried to fake my way through a conversation as I dozed off again.

A friend called, long distance. I hoped that would perk me up, and it did. But when I got up afterwards, I was really dizzy. You know how on TV they show that someone is dizzy or disoriented by moving the camera in slow motion so everything blurs? I actually feel like that sometimes. It feels like, when I move my head, that my brain takes longer to catch up to where I have turned. Very disorienting. I went back to bed.

For the next four hours, I went to the mall with my kids and J and looked at bedsheets and book shelves. We rearranged the family room, installing a flat-screen TV we’d somehow had in storage, and hooked it up to a spare computer so we could stream TV shows off the internet. I cleaned up all kinds of cat poop the dog had dragged upstairs. Then, I packed to go to Ireland, and even managed to get on in first class. Once on the plane, I realized I’d forgotten all my medications.

And on it went, vivid and realistic, except for the part where I’m certainly not going to Ireland (and never forget my meds), the dog doesn’t drag cat poop around the house, we don’t have a flat screen TV just kicking around and no need for bedsheets. I’d like the bookshelves, though.

After those travels, I managed to drag myself out of bed for a while and have something to eat. J went to a friends with the kids for dinner, and I was back to bed. All in all, I was awake about 6 hours yesterday.

The vertigo is weird, but the sleeping jag is something I’ve experienced since I was a teenager. More fun with fibromyalgia!

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The weird searches are popping up again. Someone was looking for “bad bad webkinz,” which sounds really obscene to me, but maybe I just have a dirty mind. Someone else actually googled, “Chinese have floppy breasts.” This is bizarre on so many levels, not the least of which is that in my personal experience, women of Chinese origin tend to have smaller rather than larger breasts, and those are less likely to be floppy. But really, level of floppiness all comes down to letting small children do nursing calisthenics. That, and gravity, which affects all of us, no matter what our ethnic origin.

Every day for the last month, and I exaggerate not one bit, someone has googled ‘hanukaka.’ Why? Would the next person please tell me? I mean, I know why they end up here, because last year, I told a funny little story about how in daycare two years ago Boo made a brown, lumpy banana thing while all the other kids made Christmas tree decorations from their cinnamon clay and the daycare ladies proudly presented it to me and said, “Happy Hanukaka!” (The picture is here.) But what else can Hanukaka mean? I guess I’ll just have to go google it myself.

I went and found that entry from last year and discovered it was exactly a year ago, minus one day, and I was describing the green grass on my lawn. Oh, the difference a year makes! We are currently being so buried in snow we had to cancel our family get-together because you can’t distinguish the road from the not-road, as J discovered when he went to get Maya from a sleep-over. I swear, it bearly goes a day without snowing this year and it is lovely. As long as it isn’t bitterly cold, I’m happy.

I have even been getting lots of exercise shoveling the driveway. I actually like doing this. It provides a sense of accomplishment I cannot explain. But I shovel and the kids and dog play and it is good for all of us. Except my neighbour, with whom we share a snowblower. He derives deep, childish joy from snowblowing and when he sees me out there with my shovel, always comes to complain that I am depriving him. I tell him I am sure he can find someone else who would be happy to have him blow them.

Backyard fun (Boo needed frequent rescuing):

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