Friday, 29 June 2007

Pillow Talk

This hasn’t been a good week for sleep.
I haven’t been ill (I’m not allowed to be) but on the rare occasions that I feel unwell, I just want to be left alone to hibernate silently in a corner of the bed. My children, on the other hand, are keen to share their illnesses and the detailed descriptions of their symptoms at all times of the day and night.
It’s only when I have interrupted nights that I remember what life used to be like about five years ago. In those days it seemed that my ear was fine-tuned to the slightest noise my children made in the night. Muffled yelping and snuffling meant bad dreams which needed to be calmed with a gentle motherly hand on the forehead. Rapid breathing indicated a high temperature, which required a brisk but dextrous dose of the Pink Panacea. A sudden gagging noise resulted in instant SAS siege tactics of leaping across to the bedroom and dragging a green-faced floppy child to the toilet bowl, all in one manoeuvre.
My, how things have changed.
These last few nights each sickly child has had to stand beside the bed and yell my name about five times before I have even stirred. At one point I even incorporated the droning noise into a particularly satisfying dream where 'Muuuummmm' was being chanted by a chorus of young (but strangely attractive) Buddhist monks.
Until this week, I didn't realise how much I have started to drool in my sleep. Each time I was woken up, my cheek appeared to be stuck to the pillowcase. It got increasingly difficult to find a dry bit of pillow. I have long been used to avoiding the damp patch in the bed, but on the pillow? I wonder if H is aware of this particularly attractive new habit. Does he wake up in the night with amorous intentions, only to take one ardour-quenching look at his dripping corpse of a wife? Given that it's dark, I suppose he can't see me lying there with jowls like a rabid dog. If he were to put a randy hand on my pillow though, he would probably think my head had been leaking slowly all night. I'm not even sure what exactly is leaking out. Saliva? Excess wine? Venom? When the pillowcase finally does dry out, it looks like a piece of parchment, so it could be that I'm oozing slaked lime.
Maybe I am just getting to that age where bits of the body start to re-align. Hips and knees are well documented for developing worn-out hinges, so there's every possibility that my over-worked jaw no longer closes properly. It won't be long before the body parts which used to operate in pairs start to strike out on their own, demanding to be acknowledged as individuals. That's the point at which I will start referring to 'my good eye' or 'my bad leg' or 'my good ear'. God knows what will happen to my breasts - one will probably shrivel away quietly while the other joins a line-dancing class, and then has a whirlwind holiday romance with a Masai warrior.
At least I only need one hand and one mouth to enjoy this Friday’s cheap fizz - a bottle of Cave de Lugny Sparkling Burgundy (Ocado £5.99 down from £7.99 until 3/7). It’s dry and biscuity (sounds like a cure for seasickness) and although it tastes like real party juice, it lacks a good finish.
If it starts oozing out of my head tonight, I wonder if it will still fizz when it hits the pillow?


expatmum said...

A slight case of too much information - if only because it reminds me of myself. My right knee makes enough noise going up the stairs that strangers have been known to ask what the noise was. And now my right shoulder is so dodgy that I can barely lift a litre of wine out of the fridge. I'm getting so weak on one side that I'll soon be walking round in circles - probably drooling too!

Mya said...

Nothing wrong with the jowly, rabid dog look - it's always worked for me.

Pig in the Kitchen said...

I'm sorry my comments are so unoriginal, but that was so funny! I have also used your SAS puking avoidance manoeuvre, it's about lesson 15 in basic training as I recall. Drooling is so unattractive isn't it?! And do you do that champing thing as you wake up and try and clear the drool?!

Motheratlarge said...

Oh dear. Can identify with so much of this. There's only so long any of us can maintain round-the-clock hyper vigilance. Exhaustion gets us all in the end. Yes, drool, not attractive, but fact. Especially liked the Pink Panacea.

Stay at home dad said...

The dripping corpse look does sound a bit of a passion killer... do people still wake up in the middle of the night with amorous intentions?

lady macleod said...

I keep telling you, I can not type when I am giggling!

Akelamalu said...

Oh don't mention knees, I know all about knees! Drooling whilst asleep too! Arrrggghhh!

debio said...

I am finding that my stiff upper lip is not so stiff as it was - it is descending as with every other body part. Crying is not only aging, but ugly - at least you're only drooling in your sleep, drunk mummy....

Omega Mum said...

Very funny. Especially liked the body parts bit. It makes the right hand not knowing what the left hand's up to horribly true - and not only hands. Laughed at venom bit. Certainly true in my case.

dulwichmum said...

I love the idea of one of my body parts having an affair with a massia warrior - only God himself knows which part of my body that would turn out to be!!!


beta mum said...

It's funny how that hyper-sensitivity to young children's night-time noises fades away.
Hannah told me the other week that she'd woken up crying because of a bad dream, had got out of bed, fetched her "build a bear hello kitty atrocity" and cuddled herself back to sleep.
I didn't even stir.
Time was I could have told you if she'd sniffed in the night, and her room is still next to ours.

jenny said...

I admit, I am a woman that likes my sleep and I am not cheery when my slumber is disturbed in the middle of the night. Because I am deaf, I cant hear all the snuffles and sniffles my kids make. Once I fall asleep, I am out for the count. What does keep me up is the damned flashing LED on the stereo Hubby has, and the red 'on' light that seems to get brighter and brighter with every passing moment. Drool? Yes, me too!

DJ Kirkby said...

It has taken me two attempts to finish reading this post as the tears of laughter kept obsucing my vision. I am now sat here sniggering almost silently so I dont wake the sleeping (and therefore much loved) children!

Nunhead Mum of One said...

Can identify so much with this. I need sleep but am now overtired so cannot even curl up into a little ball and have a power nap! praps I need some of that dry and biscuity fizz!

jenny said...

Please pop over to my Blog, dear Drunk Mummy.. I have a surprise for you!

mutterings and meanderings said...

Oh hun, that gave me a good giggle!

Rebecca said...

I guess you could wring out the pillow-slips each morning and collect the drippings ; thereby saving on both booze and water!

rilly super said...

drunkmummy, perhaps the drooling is simply a result of your husband's orange pyjamas subconciously awakening your buddhist monk fantasy. Perhaps he should change his nightwear to something white and trappist, then both of you will sleep with your mouths shut. I have missed your adventures recently with being away so hope to catch up soon. Hope you are well, drooling related dehydration aside. bye for now.

EmmaK said...

I have never had a sex fantasy about Buddhist monks. Thanks, I will try that tonight. Yes, they all look like Keanu Reeves and I will gently unravel their robes, they will protest a little, then succumb under my skilled hands.

Dulwich Dad said...

I so know how you feel...

- love the blog.

i'm going to link my blog to yours if that's OK?

Dulwich Dad

Drunk Mummy said...

expat mum - the creaky knee sounds interesting. Add in a clicky hip in a few years, and you will sound like you are tap dancing up the stairs.

mya - yes, but I did wonder if a muzzle might be the answer to my problems.

pig - yes I do the champing thing on waking too! Usually accompanied by a few muttered words from the dream ('saffron robes' or some such).

motheratlarge - yes, I'm sure the drooling is a recent development, though (unless I used to have super-absorbent pillow cases in the past).

SAHD - that's a very good point - maybe H never does wake up in the middle of the night with amorous intentions. Hurrah! I can drool with impunity!

lady macleod - does the Moroccan heat prevent the problems of soggy pillows? (Ask a slobbering friend!)

akelamalu - I hope you are on the way to recovery now!

debio - alas, we are all slaves to gravity!

omega mum - thank you. I decided in the end that it couldn't possibly be venom leaking out - otherwise why would I have so much left inside me at the start of each day?

Dulwich Mum - I think you need to persuade James to take you on holiday to Kenya!

beta mum - I think its the exhaustion kicking in after so many years!

jenny - that little red light always gets me too. Attempts to incorporate those into dreams are much less successful - usually involving martians.

dj kirkby - its funny isn't it how adorable children are - when they are asleep!

nunhead mum of one - gosh, I used to 'power nap' when I was younger! I fear that if I tried it now, I would be out cold for about an hour (and drooling too).

jenny - what a lovely surprise! Thank you very much - I need to get pasting!

M&M - thank you, but you youngsters shouldn't laugh at the old people!

Hello Rebecca!
What a resourceful woman you are - that is a useful recycling tip!

Rilly - how lovely to hear from you again! I thought you might have run off to join the local brass band.
I will bin the orange pyjamas straight away. Welcome back!

emma - in my dream they didn't protest at all - not even when I insisted they open up another bottle of wine (definitely in the realms of fantasy then!)

Hello Dulwich Dad - thank you, you are very kind!