thirty for thirty {part two}

Part two of thirty random facts share for my thirtieth birthday.  Part one is here.

-I talk in my sleep.  A lot.  And normally it’s angry talk directed at Chris.  About things that aren’t real.  Like snakes under our bed, the kids playing with swords in our living room, or the person staring at me in the car.  It freaks him out.  And I don’t ever remember it in the morning. 

-I don’t like my food to touch.  If I could eat every meal with a divided plate, I would be a happy girl.

-The conversations I have in my head would probably qualify me for mental health services.  Good thing I don’t talk to myself out loud.

-Lowest moment of my life: saying goodbye to my one-month-old neice as they took her off the machines that were keeping her alive.  And I still have nightmares about the sounds my sister made that day.

-If I didn’t have any self-control, I could probably drink four to five Diet Mt. Dews every day.

-When I was pregnant, I was walking around my classroom one day and a sneak-attack fart happened.  I tried to play it off, but I’m pretty sure a couple kids heard it.  Ms. Graham is the farting teacher.

-I got married barefoot.  It was a mix of not finding shoes I liked, not wanting to wear heels, and not wanting to wear shoes at all that lead to this decision.

-To get to sleep, I require lots of blankets.  It could be the middle of summer and blazin’ hot, but unless I have at least 2-3 blankets on me, I can’t get to sleep.

-As a child, I went to the hospital four times for injuries.  Three of those times I was faking.

-I’m glad I have daughters so that when I’m old and in a nursing home, I’ll have someone to take care of all my random facial hair problems.

-I can’t open jars or lids with my right hand.  I broke up a fight in school years ago and have never regained the ability to grasp tightly with my thumb.

-I collect vintage cookbooks.  I buy most of them at estate sales or garage sales.  I especially like the small, catalog-sized ones that used to come with refrigerators in the 40s and 50s.

-The feeling of popsicle sticks grosses me out.  I don’t like to touch them or feel them on my teeth.  It makes me shudder just thinking about them.

-While I’m not happy I totaled my car, I am secretly glad that I don’t have to drive a stick anymore.

-I still have vivid memories of being five, swinging on my swing set, and making up the most beautiful songs known to man.  They would make me cry they were so beautiful.  I specifically remember one song about Captain Kangaroo dying that just broke my little heart.  Also, I was the weirdest child ever.