Luckily for Shaun, he gets out of it a couple nights per week since I fall asleep on the couch; but I like to keep him on his toes (so to speak), so I never let him get too comfortable knowing just which nights those might be.  No, no.  Comfort is the first adjective removed from the ‘sleeping-with-a-spouse’ equation.
Shaun loves to tickle me - it's torture.
And don’t even get me started on this attachment parenting/family bed baloney (Rich) because it doesn’t deserve its own post (well, maybe I’ll give it its own post sometime if I really get in a mood, but not today).  STUPID. 
 
Shaun and I have a nice, queen-sized, pillow-top bed.  Roomy enough for the two of us.  He is 6’1” tall and I am 5’6” tall.  Neither of us is overweight, just average.  We’d both prefer to have a king-size bed, just for stretching purposes; and we’d love to have a Sleep Number bed when we next purchase one, but this is off-subject.  (The best part about having friends with Sleep Number beds?  Letting all the air out of their beds when they have dinner parties and they don’t know that you’re up in their room effing up their bed instead of “powdering your nose” – right Dot?)  Bottom line: we should have enough room for sleeping comfortably, making none of the below stories come into existence, but somehow, they’re all true.
 
Shaun has always called me a cover hog, though I am not sure how this came about since I always wake up in the middle of the night COLD.  If I’m cold, it means I have no covers on and have to wrestle them around and steal them back from HIM.  Well, one night, I did so in my sleep and wrestled them with my elbow, directly to his eyeball.  I gave him a black eye!  Poor guy!  Naturally, we met up with his parents for lunch the next day and I had to explain myself.

Look at my sweet face - NEVER capable of a sleeping black eye, right?  Right??
I have also *allegedly* injured Shaun by scratching him with my toenails.  Now I do not admit to this because unlike the elbow black eye, which woke me up, any toenail scratches haven’t woken me up in-process.  Given the length of my legs next to his…my toenails are perfectly placed at scratching-post alignment to his delicate shin skin.  Well, I guess he needs to keep funding my pedicures is all.  See, it all comes down to proper incentive and rationale.

Patriotic pedicure
When I was pregnant with the girls, I tried my very hardest to sleep on my left side, but my joints would get so sore that I would have to switch sides for little breaks.  Shaun later told me that when I turned over it was like an orca rolling over in our bed.  Nice, baby.  At least he had the courtesy of telling me after the girls were born.  In fairness, I wasn’t getting hardly any sleep what with the girls’ in-utero all-nighter gymnastics meets, my constant pee trips, and my achy pelvis.  If I wasn’t comfortable while carrying his children, it’s only fair…
Here's me at 22 weeks.
Here's me at 31 weeks.  Holy!
Here's me at 37 weeks, the day before the girls were born...Eich!
For my friends who are preggers - remember your bods do go back to normal.
Recently, as in the past 30 days, I woke in the middle of the night all snuggled up with…I couldn’t figure out what.  After several moments, I realized that I was snuggling with Shaun’s arm as though it was a cozy stuffed animal.  I have no idea how he allowed this since he usually doesn’t like to be mussed with too much while he’s sleeping.
 
Since Shaun doesn’t like to be snuggled with when he’s sleeping, Theodore is usually happy to take on the role.  Theodore came with me into the marriage as a package deal.  Shaun wasn’t keen on him sleeping in our bed, but I said, ‘try one night sleeping with him locked out of the room’ (which I didn’t want to do) and he whined the whole night outside the door.  Theodore’s been sleeping with us every night since.  He would love nothing more than to snuggle between our heads, but Shaun has vetoed that.  Instead, Theodore sleeps ON my head.  I thought Shaun was joking when he told me this, cuz surely I would feel a cat sleeping on my face?  No, I did not.  Shaun was not making this sh*t up.  I became a little more conscious of it and a couple times I’ve woken up in the night and Theodore has been completely curled around my head.  He also sleeps on my chest, staring down at me, but I knew he did this.  My interpretation of this cat behavior is that he becomes concerned in the night that I may not wake up and feed him in the morning, so he lays as close as he possibly can to my breathing source to ensure that air is, in fact, going in and out of my body.  Shaun is rolling his eyes.

Theodore joins us at the dinner table too, though his food still stays on the floor.  He just gets sniffs.
Shaun says I talk in my sleep.  Most of it’s just mumbling, I guess, but he says every once in a while I’ll say something super ridiculous like “I object!”  I don’t think I’ve ever admitted guilt of anything in my sleep, but I’ve also never done anything that would have guilt weighing on my subconscious, either.  I’ll have to bear that in mind if I ever go on any crime sprees.  *Cannot sleep.*  *Will possibly confess.*
 
Ah, Friends, I read a quote on Pinterest recently that said, “No one looks back on their life and remembers the nights they had plenty of sleep.”  Totally.  Lori and I have partied into the wee hours more nights than I can count - and I wouldn't trade a one of them for the world; the first nights with the girls as newborns when we didn’t sleep much – those are precious; and now, the random nights when Shaun or I wake each other up from stupid sh*t done in our (usually my) sleep.  That’s the good stuff we’ll still talk about when our bodies can’t handle beer strawpedoes anymore:  “Hey baby, remember when I gave you that black eye in my sleep that one time?  Your mom totally did not find that humorous.”