Breath In, Breath Out

Breathing is important. It's also kind of nice, depending on how the air smells (use your imagination). We've been talking a lot about breathing lately, from telling C to take a deep breath and pleasecalmdownNOW to telling K to take a breather from her homework (so much more in fourth grade than there was in third).

BUMD has been taking a lot more breaths lately. A couple of weeks ago, he got the results of his sleep study and now he's finally hooked up to a CPAP machine. It's not nearly as bad as I had imagined. In fact, it's almost restful for me - kinda like a gray noise machine (too much noise to be white). It's apparently a lot easier to sleep through what sounds like a wind storm outside than it is the sound of your beloved spouse waking up multiple times a night. According to the sleep study results, he stopped breathing 50+ times an hour. That's right - the same hour that has 60 minutes. No wonder he always had bags under his eyes.

Of course, this is our house. Everything is fodder for a good laugh. By way of telling the kids about Daddy's new machine, he's taken to putting on the mask and stalking them while chanting "Luke, I am your father." This worked well until last night, when I had to tell him that he really resembled Snuffleupagus. How far we fall.

As a side note, I tried to embed this video, but they have embedding disabled. Bastards.