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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Thursday, May 31, 2007

Scribbles and Scrambles - Sleeping Single in a Double Bunk

In all the years we've been married, in all the sleep situations in which we've found ourselves - I have yet to have had the pleasure of sharing a bunk bed with my hubby.

This has changed.

We traveled to Minnesota over the weekend and the "grown-up" beds were all spoken for. I've slept in the bunk beds before...about 28 years ago while we were dating and I visited Minnesota with Rob's family. This trip, I had company. Rob grabbed the top bunk which turned out to be fortunate with my ability to injure myself.

Since we've been married we've shared a tent in the pouring rain ( a few times). A tent jam-packed full of children in all types of weather. Rocks have bruised my kidneys and small furry mammals interrupted my sleep. Our lullaby -- the buzzing of blood-thirsty mosquitoes alerting the others to fresh meat. Drifting off to the warm and fuzzy knowledge of a two a.m. walk to the outhouse should I attempt to slake my thirst.

We've slept in a family bed. Short-lived. Once I slept between him and a frightened child who had already surpassed me in height. This was a one-time arrangement. I awoke in a panic, suffocating, pinned and overheated, I bolted. Now the children are invited to sleep on the floor when a thunderstorm strikes. (Yeah, go ahead, notify PETA).

My hubby's former boss took us on a cruise once (in lieu of paying overtime -- probably highly frowned upon by wage and labor laws -- but, oh well). We were rocked to sleep in two single beds, but each pillow contained a mint every night.

Would I recommend a bunk bed? Well, the mattresses were new. That was a good thing -- especially upon hearing about the condition of the previous ones that rested on the rusted springs for 30+ years. Shudder.

I felt tall. If I stretched out I could touch both walls, as a matter of fact anyone over the height of 5'7" probably couldn't sleep without being overcome by claustrophobic nightmares full of rabid monkeys and bad poetry.

Speaking of rabid monkeys, I echo Dorothy "there is no place like home." As long as the children sleep on the floor, that is. And, in a pinch, borrowed beds without mosquitoes come in a close second.