Bloog and Tess's Excellent Adventure

Episode 1: My New Roommate

I loved living with Schunt. We had some great times for sure. As far as roommates go, he was a pretty great one. Living with Stefan and Tycy has been a new adventure, and of course I mean that in the best way. My new roommate is as cute as they come, and I love him to pieces. Who wouldn’t want to share a room with a 18 month old baby?...

I am a pansy when it comes to scary movies/shows or anything even remotely close to being scary. Of course, I get the appropriate thrill from being terrified. It’s the months afterward when I have to go bed that the troubles really come. What does this have to do with the roommate situation? Allow me to enlighten you. Emery cries in his sleep. At those times, I generally wake up but promptly go back to sleep knowing that he will do the same shortly. Other times though, things don’t go so smoothly. It doesn’t happen very often, but sometimes the sweetest guy gets up in the night and cries and cries until I console him and lay him back down. There’s nothing scary about that right? Well here’s the thing, he cries until I get up. As soon as I’m out of bed, he just sits there with a blank and, quite frankly, really creepy look on his face. He’s like a zombie baby, and it fills my heart with terror every time. In the back of my mind I always feel like he’s going to turn into one of those supernatural creatures from my scary shows and attack me with lightning speed and sharp, tiny, baby fangs.  I’ve already told you that I’m a pansy. Still I feel like if you saw him with that blank dead look on his face in the dead of night that you might be a tad frightened too.

There are certain occasions when Bloog’s and my bedroom door isn’t closed all day. When it’s time for bed on those nights there is usually a certain crunchiness to my sheets. This is generally due to the large amount of crushed saltines scattered under, in, and over my blankets. Not to mention the carpet of saltines on the bedroom floor. There was also the time when I got into bed only to find it soaking wet. Upon further inspection I found an empty (though I’m sure it was previously full) sippy cup. I’m sure that won’t be happening again though, because I talked to my tiny roommate about it. We’ve set some boundaries. I said to him, “Emery, no crushing crackers and certainly no food or drink in Auntie Tess’s bed.” He smiled, laughed, and then ran… so I’m sure he understood. The crackers found in subsequent nights were probably left there by someone else, because Bloog and I have an understanding.

 I wake up relatively early to various different baby noises. Usually I pretend that I'm not awake in the hopes that the smallest guy will follow suit. Now, let me make one thing clear. I am in no way complaining about my tiny roommate. What other alarm clock is more excited to see you in the morning than mine. One look at that sweet little baby and all thoughts about creepy eyes, sleep deprivation, and crumby sheets evaporate. Take a look at these pictures, and feel free to let me know if you've ever seen a cuter roommate. Good luck! (Possible side effects include: uncontrollable squealing accompanied by baby talk, clenching of toes and teeth, and exclamations of "he's so cute!")

Schef and Tyc I think you guys can safely quote The Sandlot and say to yourselves, "We did a pretty good job."

 

Chapter 7: One More Sleepless Night

Hey guys! Long time no… talk? It would be futile for me to try and explain everything that’s happened over the past few months, so I’ll just say this: I currently live in Provo, UT with my oldest brother, Stefan, his wife, Tycy, and their sweetest, cutest, most tender baby, Emery (commonly known as Bloog, tiniest one, sweetest guy, or other names of that nature). Hunter married sweet Laci Tee Clawson (now Laci Berry :D), and they also currently live in Provo.  That’s good enough for now.

Let’s jump right in!

                I moved to Provo sometime in the middle of June. Of course, that meant that once again I had to stuff my life into my Baby Truck. It wasn’t as full as last time but still fairly jam packed. For the first few weeks I slept on Schef’s couch. For those of you who don’t know, that couch is probably the most uncomfortable couch to sleep on, at least for long periods of time… or if you’re over 5 feet tall. One night I decided that it might just be more comfortable to sleep in the cab of my truck. It was pretty late. Schef & Tycy had already gone to bed. I slipped outside and locked the door behind me, rather unfortunately so as it turned out. My truck keys were in the house, behind that aforementioned locked door. Ugh. Great. It was like 1:30 in the morning, and I was locked outside! Perhaps most people would have knocked on the door or perhaps given their brother a little jingle to let them inside. I, being the considerate sister that I am, decided to do neither. There was only one logical thing left to do: try to break into my truck. I crawled into the bed of my Baby. Well, it didn’t take me long to realize that with all the junk in the back I wouldn’t be able to get enough leverage to slide that back window open. With my option stream run dry, I bunkered down for the night.

                What with my mattress being buried under such things as boxes and a table, sleeping in the bed of my truck wasn’t as comfortable as one might think. In fact, it was probably one of the worst night’s sleep I’ve ever encountered, though it might not be fair to include it in the “night’s sleep” category, as I didn’t actually do much sleeping. Finally, at probably 9 that morning I decided to see if anyone was awake. Lucky for me, my sweet sister-in-law doesn’t do much sleeping in. I was excited. I had made it through the night without any encounters with hobos or anyone else with the same sleeping arrangement ideas as I had. Now, you might think to yourself that there’s nothing too great about this story. That’s just absent-minded Tess for ya. Well, here’s the kicker. That same brother that I didn’t want to wake by calling or knocking was awake the whole time. In fact, he watched the whole thing. He saw me crawling in and out of the back of my truck bringing out chairs (and other such uncomfortable bedding) and throwing them in the back of his car.

                I guess the moral of this story is this. Communicate. Don’t be afraid to knock. Also, be grateful for what you have. Just as the grass isn’t always greener on the other side, the bed isn’t comfier in the truck.