My bed is phenomenally comfortable. After countless nights getting a better night’s sleep in hotel beds than in my own home, I spent some time and money and created a little slice of heaven I like to call MY BEDROOM. Yes, my husband lives and sleeps here, too, but let’s be serious. He could sleep on a hardwood floor and be content. This bed was for me. I bought a beautiful iron frame, added a Sleep Number mattress (I’m a 45), and topped it all off with soft, cool white cotton sheets, tons of pillows in crisp white pillowcases, and a fluffy white down comforter, which we use even in the summer. The deep red satin curtains block out the light, and the whirring of the fan not only lulls me to sleep, but keeps a nice breeze flowing over me as I rest in peaceful slumber…
I’m sorry, I nodded off for a moment. I’m back.
Here’s the problem with having the most comfortable bed in the house. Almost everyone wants to sleep there. The cat spends half his life snuggled up somewhere on the bed, and the second my little fan clicks on, he wiggles in front of my face, bogarting the air stream. My daughter, thankfully, prefers her own bedtime real estate, so even the scariest nightmare won’t make her try to wiggle into bed with us. My son, however, thinks it is his God-given right to sleep in our bed.
He has two techniques that he employs to weasel in where he should not be. The first is to say that he cannot fall asleep in his own bed because it’s too hot. In his defense, our upstairs AC unit does a horrible job of keeping the kids’ side of the house as cool as our side of the house. But it’s not exactly sweltering, and he does have a ceiling fan. When we see that we are simply not going to win the battle, we allow him to fall asleep in our bed hours before we need it, and then we carry him to his bed later. His second technique is to wake up during the night and quietly walk over to our room. When he does this, we usually don’t even realize he’s there until the morning. However, there are plenty of nights when he does wake us up and continues to keep us awake by tossing and turning, throwing a leg across us, tugging on our hair like a lovey. It has Got. To. Stop.
I’ve done what I can to make his bed as cozy as mine from the handmade pillow and comforter (that’s right, I sewed him puppy bedding just like he wanted) to the fan I bought for him that makes the same whirring sound and blows air gloriously across his bed. While he agrees with all the logic his five year old mind can muster that his bedroom is now sleep-worthy, he still is fighting the good fight. So last weekend I created a rewards chart. I’m not a big fan of bribery, but there comes a time when a mom has to say enough is enough. SLEEP IN YOUR OWN BED!
The reward? A new game for Wii.
The hurdle? Five nights without leaving his room before 7:00 a.m. Did I mention we bought him a clock?
So far the “Wii Sleep in Our Own Beds!” chart is going well, and he’s already talking about the fact that if five nights will earn him one Wii game, then ten nights will earn him two. Somehow even in his sleep deprived state he’s great with math. At this point I’m ready to put every Nintendo employee’s child through college if that’s what it takes to get my nighttime sanctuary back. Hopefully it won’t come to that, but it’s time to do something.
I’m taking back my bed.