February 26th, 2020
It’s funny after 5 years of living with Bailey that I only now learn about her loud snoring. Last week, my youngest son complained at breakfast that he had been kept up through the night by Bailey. A shared wall exists between his bedroom and the front entry room. Bailey prefers to lie alongside this wall with the metal door stop pressing into her back. It seems that Bailey, exhausted by two hikes on snow-covered trails followed by long naps in between, falls into a very deep sleep at night. Her snores vibrate her body which in turn vibrates the wall. My son’s headboard leans against this wall and it vibrates with each loud snore. Between the wall and headboard vibrations combined with Bailey’s noisy snorts, Cameron has not been getting enough sleep. When he first mentioned it, I stared at him in disbelief. To me, her soft, gentle snores lull me to sleep for an afternoon nap. How could her loud snoring escape my notice? I have an earlier bedtime than the big girl. My mornings begin at 5 am, sometimes earlier if I am clock watching, and I reach the pumpkin hour at 9 pm. My lights are out at 9:30 pm which is when Bailey goes for her last business walk of the day with my husband. My bedroom is far enough away that I hear nothing from nocturnal stirrings of a Newfoundland dog. Usually, Cameron is also fast asleep before she breaks into the vibrating wall routine. A few late nights spent reading a book meant trying to sleep after Bailey was well on her way to orchestrating a symphony of loud snores. I suggested ear plugs to no avail. His solution was just to go to bed earlier than her. Our girl had found a way to convince the teenager in the house not to stay up late. In my mind, these are good vibrations.