Seventh Floor Snores

Three weeks in counting until my first weight watchers meeting, and I suppose it's a good sign that I am counting down.  Truly, I am tired of my knees and back aching when I stand up.  I am tired of my pants being tight.  I am tired of sitting on the washer eating chocolate and pretending that no one sees me, when I know full well that the eyes of heaven are boring holes right through me and the washing machine.  That's probably where all my missing socks go.

This morning, I weighed in at 184.5.  I am thoroughly disgusted with myself and primed for action.  I started on the old Weight Watchers program just to give me a sense of direction until I get back to a meeting.  The "Law of One" isn't working for me.  It's supposed to help me eat just a serving; however, in the past weeks, I think I've been interpreting it as "The Law of One MORE." 

But this is only January, and confession is good for the soul.  In the next few weeks, I want to identify some important changes and attitudes that I want to make a part of my journey.  The first subject I would like to address is REST.  We covet it, we neglect it, we squander it.  However, rest is really very important to us.  Rest keeps us motivated to do what needs to be done.  Rest helps keep our moods positive.  Rest regulates our body's clock and metabolism.  Rest makes other people like us better. 

My family can usually tell when I'm resting well when the sound of my REM cycle resonates down the hallway. That is to say, I snore like the 1500 SLT Hemi on a Dodge Ram.
If you need a witness to this beyond our four walls, just ask my grandmother, who got stranded with me and my snores a year and a half ago at my brother's wedding. 

The happy occasion took place in Florida.  I was almost eight months pregnant with my third child, but my pregnancy had been healthy, so I decided to make the trip from South Carolina with my grandma and my folks.  Dad was the best man, and he planned to spend most of the time with my brothers; so we girls were looking forward to some great times in our shared hotel suite.  There was a big bed in the bedroom and a fold-out in the front room.  Plenty of room for the three of us.  But what we hadn't taken into account  was the snoring.

If it had only been me, we might have worked it out, but alas 2/3rds of the vacationers were proficient nighttime noisemakers.  My mom hasn't always snored.  It just kind of started in the last few years, but she has honed the unconscious art to perfection.  Hence the Hemi and the chainsaw joined forces, and it's a wonder the police didn't show up and accuse us of disturbing the peace.  We certainly did disturb poor Grandma though, who spent the night playing musical beds, and trying to figure out which one of us might be most tolerable to sleep in the same room with.  She required a double dose of coffee the next morning.

The next night, she started out in the king sized bed with me.  Apparently, I was exhausted and moved quickly into the land of nod, sucking the walls in with me.  Mom had driven dad to my brother's hotel, so grandma moved to the fold-out in the living room.  This still wasn't far enough away, and she knew my mom's return was inevitable, so she went to plan C.  She made herself a little bed on the balcony.  It was nice outside and she fell asleep quickly.

My mom came back and got herself ready for bed.  She assumed grandma was in bed with me, so she went through her nightly ritual of pills and door-locking, and she went to bed.  About three in the morning, grandma woke up and had to go potty.  That's when she discovered she was locked on the balcony.  Mom and I were both snoring so loudly, it took us awhile to hear her banging on the balcony door.  Groggy and confused, we both started looking for grandma and looking through the peephole on the front door.  That's when we realized all at once, "oh my gosh! Grandma's locked on the porch."

As you can imagine, we haven't lived it down yet, and Grandma was very happy to get home and sleep in the peace and quiet.  I don't know how my husband sleeps, but he does.  I've heard it said that sleep deprivation and stress can make snoring worse, as can sleep apnea.  If you think you've got sleep apnea, you should see a doctor, but if you're just not getting enough sleep (most of us), you can work toward a solution.  That's one of my commitments in the next few weeks.  I need to get at least 8 hours of sleep.  That means getting in bed at 11 and getting up at 7 for me.

Life wants to burn the candle at both ends, it true, but if we're honest, we make decisions that eat into our sleep time.  We stay on the computer too late.  We watch an extra hour of TV, when we know we aught to get to bed.  If you're a mom, bad kid karma often eats into your sleep time.  Somebody is sick and wakes you up in the middle of the night.  Somebody wakes up at 5 a.m.  In that case, quit giving yourself the guilt trip about the mid-day power nap.  Let your body make up what it lost.  Rest does not  translate "SLOTH"; it translates to a healthier you.

Commitment #1 for this week: I'm going to get my sleep.  I'm not going to be a mombie zombie.  I'm going to raise the roof with a good old fashioned snore-down!