counting sheep...

You may think I am making this up... but
I am telling the truth,
the WHOLE truth
and nothing
but the truth.

For those of you who know me well, know that I crash as soon as I lay my head on the pillow. I am usually out before my husband brushes his teeth. Falling asleep has never been hard for me. But every once in a while, I wake up in the middle of the night and I start thinking about something annoying and end up tossing and turning for hours. I HATE when I do this!!! I don't want to waste my precious sleeping time thinking about something lame--so several years ago (I believe it was the jr. high-ish years) I came up with a great solution.

I don't count sheep-- I pretend I am DEAD. I am not kidding, I picture myself at my own viewing.. in an open coffin. I lay flat on my back, make my body really long and straight and place my hands comfortably on my waist with my fingers beautifully interlinked. I picture myself dressed in white and everything around me is bright and blurry at the same time (?) My breathing gets really slow because [obviously] dead people don't breathe. There is soft music in the background and lots of people around but I can't hear what they are saying because it's all too quiet (and my ears are dead too.) For some reason everything that I started stressing about doesn't matter anymore because really, what do I care?-- I am dead. I know this sounds weird and crazy, but it seriously works for me. I always fall right back to sleep... at least 98% of the time.

Every once in a while I start stressing about actually dying and wondering what I would have done differently if this had been my LAST day as a mother/wife. And when this happens, it's bad because it's ONLY after I had a hard day with the kids and then I think about how dumb it was for me to get mad at them for making their own ice cream disaster creation. I realize that I should have called my family just to tell them that I love them (something I hardly ever do.) And I usually always feel guilty for falling asleep while Aaron was brushing his teeth-- because if it was my last night I would have said goodbye properly (wink, wink.) Anyway, I only stress about really dying about 1% of the time.

The other 1% of the time, I imagine myself at my funeral, but my breathing is so slow that everyone THINKS I am dead, but I am NOT! And just as they are about to shut the coffin, I try to yell or scream but I can't move!!! When Aaron touches my hand for the last time, I am able to slightly squeeze him back, and he realizes that I tried to move! But everyone else thinks he crazy--so they bury me anyway. And then it turns black and dark and I realize that I have been buried alive and now I am really going to die-- this time for good--- so I sob like a baby.. BUT THEN, I hear something. It's Aaron and he's yelling for me and telling me that he's going to save me!! And by this time, he magically transforms into Bo Brady from Days of Our Lives.. because it's easier to picture Bo digging a grave without a shovel... in the rain... and of course, he rescues me and we are both dirty and crying and so happy to be together again. When I wake up, it's morning and I'm delighted because not only am I alive, but I my husband (sort of) dug me out of my grave with his bare hands! How LOVED am I??