I’m a light sleeper, which probably stems from the fact that I have four kids and am always on alert for one of them to wander into my room at night with a tummy ache. Additionally, my daily consumption of Diet Coke keeps me running to the bathroom during the night. However, the main reason I can’t seem to catch a good night’s sleep is that my dear husband, blissfully dreaming beside me, has nostrils that sound like a lawn mower trying to start up over and over again.
There’s nothing charming about snoring. At 3 AM, I’m not gazing at him and thinking, “Isn’t he adorable with his mouth agape, taking deep breaths? How sweet to see his chest rise and fall, knowing that a soothing lullaby is emanating from him.” No! My thoughts revolve around how I might be sentenced if I were to smother him with his ergonomic pillow.
Over the course of our 15-year marriage, I’ve tried numerous tactics to silence his snoring. Sometimes, I’ll toss and turn dramatically, hoping to startle him without fully waking him. He might shift positions, and the snoring will pause for a moment before revving back up. I’ve also tried gently nudging him to tilt his head or removing his covers to make him stir. Other times, I simply wallow in frustration and wish he’d roll off the bed on his own.
The situation worsens when our five-year-old daughter decides to join us, which is practically an everyday occurrence. Since he rarely notices her sneaking in, I try not to disturb him. I’ll carefully move to the center of the bed so she can hop in without causing a ruckus. She loves to hold my face while sleeping, which is sweet until she and her father start a snoring duet. I lie there in the middle of the king-size bed, feeling like a toddler squished between two brothers from Deliverance. It’s maddening.
And don’t even suggest taking her back to her own bed. If I do that, I risk waking the dog. If the dog wakes up, she’ll want to go outside. Opening the door to our yard, which backs up to woods with a history of coyote sightings, is not an option for me. So, my daughter stays put, and I’m left praying for a few precious moments of sleep.
As for remedies, we’ve tried every strip, patch, and pill on the market, but nothing seems to work. He’s got snoring down to an art. If it were an Olympic event, he’d take home gold every time. He’s fully committed to this nightly performance.
Remember, I mentioned I’m a light sleeper? Well, when I’m asleep and don’t hear him snoring, I panic. I start to worry he’s not breathing. What do I do? I grab my phone, turn on the flashlight, and shine it on him to check for movement. If I can’t see him well enough, I creep closer to listen for breaths. Thankfully, he’s always been alive during these midnight checks, or this tale would have taken a dark turn.
But when I confirm he’s alive, I get annoyed at him for being silent and making me worry. This frustration seems justified; no one should have to question if their partner is breathing at 3 AM.
Eventually, after enough shuffling, his snoring may subside, and I’ll finally close my eyes and drift into dreamland. Just as I’m about to hear the last winning lottery number from my fortune teller, the mower starts back up. I lose it, thrashing around, kicking, and yelling, “Stop snoring!” He turns to me, bewildered, and asks, “What?”
And that, Your Honor, is why I believe my actions were entirely warranted.
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Summary:
In this humorous piece, Sarah Thompson shares her struggles with her husband’s relentless snoring, which keeps her from getting a good night’s sleep. Despite trying various tactics to silence him, including nudging and blanket removal, the snoring persists. The situation is further complicated when their daughter joins them in bed at night, leading to a chaotic sleep environment. Ultimately, Sarah expresses her frustration and the challenges of being a light sleeper married to a heavy snorer.
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