I have an article up over at Military Bliss today that made me realize that I have never discussed my insomnia with you all.
I’m not really an insomniac. First, I am naturally a night owl. From the earliest time I can remember I was always the last one awake at slumber parties. If the world, and my children, revolved around my schedule, we’d all be staying up until 1am and then sleeping til 9.
We’d get so much done at night!
Can you imagine the shock to my system when Chloe was a baby and insisted on waking up at 5am on the dot every stinkin’ morning?
I do make an effort to get to bed by 10 or 11 most nights, because I also make an effort to get up around 5 so I can workout, shower, and spend some time in the Bible all before the kids get up.
And then my husband deploys.
And at a time when I need to wake up early more than ever, I suddenly find myself completely unable to make myself get in bed. Instead I watch Food Network and old reruns of CSI until the wee hours of the morning.
And when I do finally get in bed, every horror movie I’ve ever seen comes back to haunt me. The freaky Japanese boy from The Grudge* is standing by my bed, the freaky girl from The Ring* is climbing out of my tv, and I’m absolutely certain that someone is either breaking into my house or has broken in and I’m listening to their footsteps walking down the hall.
A situation not helped by the fact that the cop next door moved and the house is now sitting empty, the last bastion between the criminal element of the world and me, gone.
My imagination may go into overdrive just a bit when I am home alone.
What do you do when you are home alone at night?
*You may notice that these movies are several years old. I had to give up watching horror movies completely because I either turned into a wimp or movies just got too scary.
We got home from our trip to California earlier this week, I survived the flights with all three kids, and my mom is out of the hospital, and upon arriving in Mississippi, the first thing I thought was, “It’s freaking January. It’s not supposed to be humid.” Thankfully it has now cooled down to a balmy 49 degrees.
I have had the plague for going on five weeks now. I would like to go ot the doctor and see if they have a magic cure, but the Navy thoughtfully shut down our medical clinic for the next six weeks. We have to use a commercial urgent care facility for any and all appointments. Last I head the average waiting time was three hours and going up. Anyone know of any secret cures for the common cold that the government is conspiring to hide from we, the people?
I would number these to make reading easier on you, dear readers, but then they wouldn’t be scattered and I’d have to change my title. So no list for you.
My husband gets to come home for about five days to attend a conference, and then go back to Iraq for another month and then come back home. I have much housecleaning to do before he gets here. Especially on his side of the bedroom. Do you think he’d feel unwelcome if I told him he had to sleep on the couch since he’s only going to be here five days and it does’t make sense for me to hang up the three weeks’ worth of laundry currently residing on his side of the bed when he’s only going to be here five days?
I missed you! Hope you all had a great Christmas and New Year. Are you all caught up on your laundry?
There is very little one can count on in deployment. Dates change, locations change, communications go down.
There are some things that remain constant, though:
1. The more sleep you need, the less you get
2. The earlier you go to bed, the more often your kids get up that night
3. The sicker you are, the more energy your kids have
4. The messier your house is, the more people drop by
5. The more you miss your husband, the slower time moves
I hate finding ginormous spiders in my house.
I hate it even more when my husband is deployed and I have no choice but to be the spider catcher.
I hate it even even more when it’s a cockroach.
And when it’s a spider and a cockroach at the same time?
I get a big bruise on my foot from freaking out and jumping around and banging into a wall while trying to leap around the corner and away from the bugs that almost ate me when I was trying to kill them.
And then I can’t sleep because I’m convinced there are bugs everywhere and I can practically feel them crawling on me.
Plus my foot kinda hurts.
So remember how I was going to give myself one day to wallow and eat comfort foods after Isaac leaves?
He’s been gone for over 24 hours now and I still haven’t gotten around to the comfort food. Or much food at all.
I just feel like throwing up.
And no, I am not pregnant. It’s just that there’s this part of me that wants to sit down and cry for the next six months, and restraining it is making me sick.
So to distract myself I thought I’d update you on the state of my pores.
Because quite honestly? I could probably spend the next six months in fascinated examination of them.
I’ve continued to use the same blend of oil to cleanse my face. I think I skipped one or two days when I was just too lazy to wash my face at all before bed.
But my cheeks look great anyway. At first I noticed that all the pimples there had shrunk some. Then I noticed that the general redness that affected my lower cheeks was gone, just leaving a few isolated and quickly healing pimples. I haven’t gotten any new pimples, except for a couple very small whiteheads, which upon (careful, repeated) examination seem to be pores that were clogged and are cleaning themselves out.
The pores around my nose are all smaller and cleaner. Immediately after cleansing my face, I look like I have practically no pores at all, but that effect does fade.
Honestly, if my face continues to improve the same way it has this last week, in another week or so the only blemishes left on my face will be the one cystic one that is healing, but slower.
I will probably adjust my oil ratio to see if I can cut out using moisturizer completely. I’ll update you more soon. And if anyone else tries this, let me know how it works!
Also, here’s a picture of Isaac and I the morning he left. Ignore my hair, as my stylist cut it a couple inches shorter than I wanted and I still haven’t figured out how to style it without it looking like a helmet.
*I apologize to anyone who clicked here thinking they were about to read a deeply insightful political post about military deployments and the cost of oil. I am way too interested in the state of my pores to spend much time blogging about the state of the union.
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