What can I say, Bubs can still surprise me...

I guess, like all of my blog posts, this one needs a bit of a prelude.

Like most married couples, Bubs and I sleep together. I guess that shouldn't come as a shock, but explaining how we sleep together will make the rest of this blog make a lot more sense.

Our first night where we quite literally slept next to each other was in 8th grade. We went to a party with my older sister where some high school boys thought it would be hilarious to get me very drunk. Bubs got creeped out by them, so he quite literally carried me to a little park near his house, deposited me there, ran home, grabbed quilts and comforters, and built us a little bed so I could sleep it off.

Waking up next to him was magical.

It's one of those memories that, even now, feels almost frozen in time. I remember thinking that morning that this was something I wanted to do forever.

Now we sleep very differently.

If I had my way, we would sleep like a pair of intertwined and motionless spiders. I love cuddling with him that much. When I fall asleep, I basically don't move for as long as I'm able to stay in bed.

Bubs, on the other hand, sleeps like he's fighting a bear.

He's also always hot.

He'll cuddle me before we fall asleep, but inevitably he'll say something like, "Uhhh, you feel like a furnace," and shove me away.

For many years, his version of cuddling has been planting one hand squarely on my butt and leaving it there until, I assume, the dream bear arrives and he starts thrashing around like a psychopath.

Another bit of trivia is that Bubs mouth tapes.

Yes, you read that correctly.

He puts tape over his mouth to make sure he breathes through his nose all night.

Now, other than the fact that it looks ridiculous and I find used bits of tape scattered around our bedroom and bathroom like some sort of strange mating ritual, I do have to admit it works.

He barely snores anymore.

Instead, he takes these huge, deep breaths through his nose, which is actually incredibly relaxing to me. If I wake up in the middle of the night, hearing him breathe will usually put me right back to sleep.

Without the mouth tape, however, his breathing gets irregular, he snores, and I immediately begin contemplating murder.

Okay.

Prelude over.

As I mentioned in my last blog post, essentially my entire family is in Destin this week. We've rented condos next door to each other and are still packed in like sardines—in the best possible way.

It's been utterly chaotic and absolutely wonderful.

We have nine adults and eight cousins ranging from 16 years old down to 14 months.

There has not been a quiet moment since we arrived.

And no, the battle between Jess and me that began somewhere in Louisiana is far from over. I love her and hate her so much.

Notably absent from this trip has been Bubs.

Now, this isn't particularly unusual. One of the realities of having a husband who is both in the military and has an insane travel schedule with his civilian job is that I've often been the solo sister on family vacations.

It was sad at first.

Eventually it just became normal.

When the plans came together for Florida, I offered Bubs the chance to fly out and meet us, but I didn't really expect it to happen. The plan was for him to come spend the last few days with us in Texas before flying home to Arizona with me and the kids.

Or so I thought.

Last night I was beyond exhausted.

My sisters and I cried our way through Season 3 of America's Sweethearts on Netflix. Then, to repay the other adults for letting us spend seven hours watching television during a family vacation, we volunteered to take all eight kids for the evening.

My 10-year-old wrestler of a daughter and my oldest nephew—who wants to play football for UT someday—decided it would be hilarious to repeatedly tackle me on the beach while my sisters laughed from their lounge chairs and refused to trade places with me. 

By the time we got all eight kids parked in front of iPads around 8:30, I was running on fumes.

After my shower and brushing my teeth, it took me approximately three minutes to pass out.

Then sometime later, I felt a hand on my butt.

Half asleep, I remember thinking:

Finally. What took you so long?

Then I heard snoring.

Not mouth-tape snoring.

Regular snoring.

And because apparently I am a brat even while unconscious, I mumbled:

"Bubs... Bubs... you sound like you're dying. Where's your mouth tape?"

Then louder:

"Bubs?"

And finally:

"BUBS!"

I shrieked so loudly it's honestly amazing I didn't wake up the entire condo.

Because it was actually him.

He had been planning this the whole time.

He wrapped up his work projects, flew to Florida, and decided to spend the second half of the beach trip with us before driving back to Texas for the remainder of the summer visit.

He was supposed to arrive mid-afternoon with the help of my brothers-in-law, but flight delays pushed everything back.

By the time he finally crawled into bed beside me around 11 o'clock, he was just as exhausted as I was.

Of course I smothered him with kisses and everything else he deserved for being such a sweet guy.

But I also knew that the second the kids found out he was there, I'd have to share him. So for one night, "Uhhh, you feel like a furnace" was not going to work on me. In addition, the dream bear could take the night off and I cuddled into his chest with no plans to let go until we had to get out bed. 

I hate how right I was about sharing my husband. 

I don't think our 8-year-old TJ has slept more than three consecutive hours since we've been here.

At approximately 4:30 in the morning, I heard:

"DAD! OH MY GOD YOU'RE HERE!"

Followed by:

"Get up so you can see the castle me and Laney and JT built!"

I said, "Buddy, Dad had a really long day yesterday. Let's let him sleep for at least another hour."

"Okay, Mom."

TJ returned roughly three minutes later.

"Oh yeah, Grandma says Mom and Aunt Jess are idiots and Grandpa says he wants to make them swim to Cuba if they don't shut up."

A few minutes after that:

"Dad, Laney says she has better abs than me. Can we work on that?"

Eventually Bubs surrendered and started pulling on his swim trunks to go inspect the world's greatest sandcastle.

As he stepped into the hallway, I heard Abby intercept him.

"DAD! Aiden's been teaching me football tackles and we beat the CRAP out of Mom last night. Let me show you!"

That, in turn, woke Ashley up in the room she had been sharing with her cousins.

The shriek of excitement that came out of that little girl could probably be heard across the Gulf.

And suddenly everyone knew he was here.

I just lay there and soaked in the glorious noise.

The laughter.

The stomping feet.

The chaos.

The excitement.

When I finally heard the door close downstairs, I climbed out of bed and looked through the window.

There was this handsome man walking across the beach with our three children as the Florida sun was beginning to rise.

I hadn't expected to see him for another couple of weeks.

Yet there he was.

I am the luckiest girl in the entire world.