Every single creature that lives in this house snores, including the dog. I don’t snore because I’m never asleep because of, you know, all the snoring.
When I first moved in with Mike, his snoring wasn’t a big deal. I’d just nudge him, he’d roll onto his side, and the snoring would stop. I even made it a joke and called him Mike Snore. I would not have made light of the situation if I’d known what the future had in store.
Then we got Rigby. She has that little dog snore that isn’t terribly powerful, but is definitely annoying. Especially since she always sleeps as close to me as possible (she prefers to sleep on me whenever possible). Unlike Mike, nudging Rigby to stop snoring is interpreted as an invitation for her to growl right in your face.
And now my kids snore. They are so, so cute when they do, but still. Have you ever tried to sleep through a symphony of snoring? I do the bulk of my work after the kids go to sleep, so I am often the last one up in the house. A typical night will find me sitting in the office, snoring dog at my feet, snoring family down the hall. As I make my way to my room to go to sleep, I stop in each kids’ room to adjust their sleep positions with the hope that they’ll stay still long enough for me to fall to sleep before the snoring starts.
I am very rarely successful.
I’ve been told that the kids will most likely outgrow snoring, which is great. In the meantime I’m just, I don’t know…slowly losing my mind. My off and on battles with insomnia make this even more excruciating. I’m woken up by snoring a couple of times a night, and then it takes me forever to fall back to sleep. I’m afraid to wear earplugs because I don’t want to miss my kids in case they call out for me in the night. I’ve found that playing music softly or turning the TV on low volume can sometimes take the edge off the log-cutting, although some nights that’s just one more noise in the cacophony.
Send help. Quiet help.