When did the snoring start? I don't remember, really. Probably because I was busy taking midnight walks around the house with either a newborn baby or a fussy toddler, more or less continually for about 13 straight years. Then, the nights I wasn't walking a restless child around, I was exhausted and sleeping like the dead so I didn't notice. But now! Now that my youngest is 5 and everyone (knock on wood) sleeps through the night, I've noticed it!! Sleeping next to my husband is like sleeping in the same room with someone revving up a Harley--for 8 long hours.

Okay, I have to be honest here. It doesn't keep me awake all through every night because I am used to it. A person can get used to a lot of things! Add to that the fact that my husband likes to sleep with a fan running. Most nights my brain shifts into the gear of focusing only on the fan's noise and not the lawn mower sounds coming from the other side of the bed. Most nights I sleep fine, but then there are the other nights. I am sure you have had them before. Long, hard day. You are wired when you lie down from having too much to think about all day. You want to go to sleep, but unfinished "to-do's" pop into your head and you cannot relax. Quietness may help, but having to listen to a loudly snoring man is like having a big speaker blasting a rhythmic message into the back of your tired head. I'mmmmasleeeeeeeeeeep. Andyourenot. I'mmmmasleeeeeeeeeep. Andyourenot. I'mmmasleeeeeeeep. Andyourenot. I say "back of your head" because you will have turned away by this time to try to focus on a patch of quiet somewhere. But there is none. Perhaps the couch?

What if every justice-of-the-peace was clairvoyent? Lynn, do you promise to honor and to cherish 'til death do you part, and promise not to leave over the fact that you will be sleeping in earplugs by the time you are 40? "Ummm...I do?" There could have (should have) been earplugs on that little satin pillow holding the matching rings. I can see it now. I would have asked through fluttering lashes (as people from Venus do), "Honey, what in the world are these earplugs for?" And dear husband would have answered, with fingers crossed behind his slim, trim, Marine's waist (as people from Mars do), "Honey, they are a symbol of my undying affection for you--that I will block out all voices but yours." I would have bought it, hook, line, and sinker!

Sometimes, I suppose out of sheer fascination, I turn and face my husband's side of the bed and just listen for awhile instead of nudging him to change positions and hopefully quit snoring. I look at his profile. The lines etched in his brow. Lines that were not there just a few years ago. I think about how truly few are the hours he has to sleep before he gets up to work and how faithfully he has worked (for me--for all of us) throughout our entire marriage. I listen to the lull at the end of each exhale and am glad to hear his every new intake of breath. He may sound like a lawn mower, but he still looks like my prince. I think he deserves to sleep soundly enough to snore.

With that thought I settle into a more peaceful state of mind. I have a warm bed, happy children and a hard-working, healthy husband. What more could any woman want? Except earplugs!

You my reproduce the above article on your website with the following byline:
Lynn Wilson, mom to four delightful (and perhaps challenging) children, is the eclectic and nature-loving owner of The Healthy Homeschool (http://www.thehealthyhomeschool.com). She welcomes you to visit her any time at her website!