attack of the 155 pound woman

Steve just got back from a long 4-day.  He had the first flight out on day-one, and he arrived last night on the last flight in.  Oh, and then he got pee tested last night, so that took even more time.

When he finally rolled in somewhere around midnight, I was sleeping like a log.  I didn't hear his text that he was on the bus to the parking lot, I didn't hear the dogs bark when the garage door opened, I didn't feel him crawling into bed.  I was out.

What I do remember from last night was me trying to find him in bed.  I have made it known that my love language is physical touch, so when my subconscious told me that he was lying next to me, I tried to snuggle with him. 

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If you have a 'sometimes' sleeping next to you, you know what I am talking about when I say that getting adjusted to a presence or lack of presence in bed isn't easy.  I have been at this game for a decade now, and I don't see it ending anytime soon.  When Steve leaves for a trip, I don't sleep well that first night.  I sleep okay on night two, and by night three I am adjusted and sleep just fine.  Steve is home the next night, and wouldn't you know it, you have to get adjusted all over again.
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Okay, so last night I woke up at some point and made my way across the bed to find Steve.  I found my way to that place on his chest area, that God created solely for snuggling.  Well, after a minute or so, Steve couldn't take it anymore and his body language yelled at me to get back to my side of the bed.  I turned over, and rolled back to my side of bed. 

I could only imagine how it must have felt for Steve: after sleeping in random beds, alone I would assume, for three nights straight, he must have been looking forward to the comforts of his own bed.  After drifting into a nice deep sleep, he wakes to find 155 pounds pretty much lying on top of him.  Yeah, that can't be fun. No wonder he isn't too receptive to my snuggling.

I awoke again, later on, and simply moved closer to him.  I made sure not to be on top on him, rather just to his side.  I lifted his shirt and placed my hand on his stomach, so that I can feel his warmth.  I do this often.  I get my love tank filled, and he doesn't get pissed off that I am trying to crush him.  

Comments

  1. This cracked me up! I tend to "travel" across the bed when my pilot isn't home. I think I am "searching" for him in my sleep. And you betcha I find him when he does sneak in late after a trip. And I know that place you refer too....it really was made for snuggling!

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  2. Amber, glad I could make you laugh :)

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  3. Oh how I understand this! The adjustment process, the spot on his chest, all of it!

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  4. Emms, isn't it scary how we are all living parallel lives?!

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  5. Being married to a Pilot is a constant state of adjustment- not just sleeping in the bed. For our family the whole house has to constantly adjust to his coming and going!

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  6. Adjustment is always going on...and then when some sort of pattern is set, it all changes yet again.

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