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Starring: a dad, a mom, a son & daughter-in-law, a daughter & son-in-law, a teen, a tween, 1 grandson, 3 granddaughters, 3 dogs, and a whole lot of love.






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Saturday, January 19, 2019

Weight For It

Let me ask you a question.
When you're thinking of getting your spouse a gift, do you
1. Get them something that brings them joy? or
2. Get them something that forces them to confront their biggest fears?

If you're new here, let me introduce myself. I'm Shari. I'm claustrophobic, prone to anxiety attacks stemming from a deep-seated fear of abandonment, and the chance of ever contracting rabies would round out the top 3 things that keep me up at night.

If you're familiar with us at all, you know that my super generous husband lacks a little sense in the gift giving department. The weedwacker he gave me for Mother's Day several years ago would be a prime example, as would the gift certificate for an hour spent floating alone in a coffin size sensory deprivation tank full of water he gave me for my birthday last year. Wait, what?...no wild-eyed raccoon trapped in there with me to complete the experience? Opportunity missed. It's like you don't me at all.

So this year, when he handed me a huge and very heavy box for my birthday, I was scared. (Always trust your instincts.) Inside the box was a 25 lb anxiety blanket. Twenty.Five.Pounds.
My first question. "So you want to lay this on top of me while I sleep?"
His response. "It will help you."
"But I'm claustrophobic."
"But you have anxiety."
"But the thought of sleeping under a 25 lb blanket is giving me anxiety. This feels counter-intuitive."
"Just try it. You'll love it."

The first night was bad. My knee popped every time I tried to roll over, probably because it wasn't expecting a 25 lb push back, not to mention the compression on my chest all night. Did this thing come with small print? Cuz my implants did.

Give it another night, he said. You'll love it, he said.

The second night was better. I started out on my left side and woke up 7 hours later in the exact same position. Unfortunately, I think that had more to do with the muscle relaxer I took before bed to overcome the anxiety of climbing under the blanket. Or my body simply relented, knowing it would lose the fight. Like a bunny being eaten by a boa constrictor, since I know you were hoping for a disturbing analogy.

Sorry, dude. Send it back. Bed is supposed to be my happy place. I can't develop a drug addiction or unleash an onslaught of snake nightmares from a birthday gift.

"Send it back? But it helps with Restless Legs Syndrome."
Which would be amazing if I had Restless Legs Syndrome.

I think Dude's been sneaking my muscle relaxers.

Side note for those who are intrigued by the weighted blanket or who might actually have RLS. Upon further research, I discovered that the recommended blanket weight should be one tenth of the person's body weight.

Now. I'm the first to admit I can't do Math. But I do know my weight on any given day. And on most days, I weigh 160, give or take. A tenth of that would be 16 lbs, yes?

So he either thinks I'm 250 lbs or dude just tried to suffocate me for my birthday. Either way, stop right there and go think about what you've done.

That was last month.
This month, he told me he knew what he was getting me for an early 26th anniversary gift.

Oh lawd, lemme guess. You're gonna leave me alone in the woods all night for a full wilderness survival adventure.

Nope. A giant box arrived and inside was this.
A hover board. 

Hold up. I'm a 47 year old grandmother of 4 who now owns the worlds fastest Gyroor F1 Hover Board, that weighs 40 lbs, and makes racing sounds?

Holy crap. Dude finally nailed it.
Happy 26th Anniversary to my best friend, soul mate, and partner in crime.
.
May the next 26 be as entertaining as the last.
Or maybe slightly less wouldn't be such a bad thing either.


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