Mr C has a new bed.
Something has come between us making it impossible to be in the same room come bedtime.
It comes from somewhere deep down inside.
There’s no getting away from it.
It’s the snore.
The snore that sounds like a thousand sleeping drunken old men in stereo but it comes from little old me!
I just can’t help it.
I’ve always been a bit of a snorer, an adorable if not slightly annoying trait. With the added pressure of a tiny growing human on all of my internal organs it’s much, much worse. It is no longer adorable. The recent cold and blocked nose I’ve been soldiering through the past couple of weeks have made the snore noisier.
It’s so loud I’ve been keeping Mr C awake at night, even when he’s wearing ear plugs, industrial ear plugs he’s got from work!
It vibrates through the house, shaking the windows and making doors rattles, according to Mr C.
I even snore when I’m awake.
You know when you close your eyes and start to relax, your breathing slows rhythmically, you’re still awake, you can hear the world continuing around you, sounds heightened as you aren’t using your sight, then all of a sudden your eyes open quickly, you’ve heard a noise, a noise so strange you’re not sure what type of wild animal could have caused it, you’re not sure where the sound came from, you weren’t asleep, just in a nice state of relaxation.
Then you realise
You realise why your eyes opened.
You realise what the noise was.
It was a snore!
It came from you!
This happens to me all the time. I’m not asleep and yet I’m snoring.
Like a wart hog, well like I’d imagine how a wart hog would sound.
How is that even possible?
I shut my eyes for a nano second, a long blink and it happens!
Sometimes I don’t have to close my eyes, if I’m sat on the sofa just vegging and my breathing steadies, I know it’s coming soon.
I’d been getting paranoid about going to bed. I nearly didn’t go on our little caravan holiday for fear of keeping the whole campsite awake. I’ve been letting Mr C get a head start going to sleep. Weekends aren’t so bad, no one needs to get up for work. Weekdays I’m trying my best to not do the thing I have absolutely no idea I’m really doing.
The munchkin complains about the noise too! The other night she crept in with me after having a nightmare and quickly retreated back to her own bed exclaiming that my snoring had scared the bad dreams away! ‘Daddy is right’ she says! More embarrassingly she’ll tell anyone about ‘Mummys snoring waking her up.’
It’s come to a head. I went to bed 40 minutes after Mr C and definitely wasn’t even in that nice relaxed state, although my eyes may have been closed, I was still sucking on a rennie to try to keep the reflux at bay for a few hours and some how the snoring started.
He retreated downstairs and has been there ever since.
He’s camping out on the sofa and I have the bed to myself!
Mr C said that although he’s sleeping downstairs, I could have waited to move my pillows to the middle of the bed!
From now on I’m embracing the snore!
It may be selfish.
I am no longer going to be paranoid about something I cannot control!
No matter how much I sound like a hippo.
After all, I manage to sleep through it!