Sleeping Apart
My husband and I have been sleeping apart lately.
Doesn't this sound like the beginning of a really juicy, drama-filled relatonship story?
Humph.
No. 'Tis not.
Try again next week.
He doesn't like the separation. I mean, who would?
Me. This girl.
And certainly I adore my husband. I adore all the pets that huddle together with us each night. But, in truth, I also love nothing more...
Than sleeping like a starfish.
Arms spread to the outer rims and toes managing to pull the fitted sheets up from my expensive mattress.
Because if there is one thing I always splurge on-
it's the mattress.... and egyptian cotton sheets.
Yes, my refrigerator and couches are hand-me-downs that I've dressed in colorful pillows from Target and tacked numerous photos to in an effort to make them look new again. But the mattresses in my home always come nicely dressed in those fancy schmancy sheets from hotel collections.
And each night I slip into bed beside the man. The dog nestles under my chin, which sounds cute but gets painfully hot. The cats utilize the bend in my knees as a chaise lounge. I am completely immobilized.
And hot.
Ooph. I don't do well in warm sleeping climates.
I don't turn the fan on and the a/c vents have been closed off as the dog gets over the nasty kennel cough she contracted after her spay. I am so hot.
Like, really hot.
And my husband's body heat reflects off of the mattress and 800 thread count sheets back onto my body.
I must escape.
And so I do.
To the guest quarters. (Sounds regal, right?)
I love my guest bedroom.
It smells like jasmine and lavender, compliments of the most delightful soy candle that rests here for when company is over. My sateen sheet set adorns the mattress that is wonderfully lumpy, after many years of love and rest before we splurged on our Cal-King, which, oddly enough, always feels so crowded.
This full-size bed that once held just Lloyd and I as we nestled together. (Frankly, non-nestling was not an option, as a full-size doesn't quite give you the freedom to lie starfish-style: my chosen configuration.) And somehow, as we managed to buy a much larger mattress, we don't do much cuddling because of all the animals that separate us nowadays. I'm fairly certain there are even neighborhood pets coming to sleep with us, unbeknownst to their owners, because it just gets so crowded.
And hot.
But here in my guest bedroom I can hear the whir of the fan we got on sale at Home Depot. It's a lovely little fan that gives a nice cool breeze as I read a book and write the blog I have been day-dreaming about in an attempt to tolerate the warmth of 5 bodies around me. I slip away.
It's like being on vacation.
And in the morning when my husband wakes he comes to the guest bedroom. I can hear him peek his head in, and if I am coherent enough I will grunt to him because "I Love You" is just too many words for me that early in the a.m.
Sometimes he will bring me a pet.
But usually he lets me enjoy sleeping like a starfish. He lets me get tangled in the cool, crisp sateen sheets that envelop the wonderfully lumpy mattress. The delightfully affordable fan is still whirring and I am happily enjoying my vacation away from the master bedroom.
Though not necessarily from him.
Doesn't this sound like the beginning of a really juicy, drama-filled relatonship story?
Humph.
No. 'Tis not.
Try again next week.
He doesn't like the separation. I mean, who would?
Me. This girl.
And certainly I adore my husband. I adore all the pets that huddle together with us each night. But, in truth, I also love nothing more...
Than sleeping like a starfish.
Arms spread to the outer rims and toes managing to pull the fitted sheets up from my expensive mattress.
Because if there is one thing I always splurge on-
it's the mattress.... and egyptian cotton sheets.
Yes, my refrigerator and couches are hand-me-downs that I've dressed in colorful pillows from Target and tacked numerous photos to in an effort to make them look new again. But the mattresses in my home always come nicely dressed in those fancy schmancy sheets from hotel collections.
And each night I slip into bed beside the man. The dog nestles under my chin, which sounds cute but gets painfully hot. The cats utilize the bend in my knees as a chaise lounge. I am completely immobilized.
And hot.
Ooph. I don't do well in warm sleeping climates.
I don't turn the fan on and the a/c vents have been closed off as the dog gets over the nasty kennel cough she contracted after her spay. I am so hot.
Like, really hot.
And my husband's body heat reflects off of the mattress and 800 thread count sheets back onto my body.
I must escape.
And so I do.
To the guest quarters. (Sounds regal, right?)
I love my guest bedroom.
It smells like jasmine and lavender, compliments of the most delightful soy candle that rests here for when company is over. My sateen sheet set adorns the mattress that is wonderfully lumpy, after many years of love and rest before we splurged on our Cal-King, which, oddly enough, always feels so crowded.
This full-size bed that once held just Lloyd and I as we nestled together. (Frankly, non-nestling was not an option, as a full-size doesn't quite give you the freedom to lie starfish-style: my chosen configuration.) And somehow, as we managed to buy a much larger mattress, we don't do much cuddling because of all the animals that separate us nowadays. I'm fairly certain there are even neighborhood pets coming to sleep with us, unbeknownst to their owners, because it just gets so crowded.
And hot.
But here in my guest bedroom I can hear the whir of the fan we got on sale at Home Depot. It's a lovely little fan that gives a nice cool breeze as I read a book and write the blog I have been day-dreaming about in an attempt to tolerate the warmth of 5 bodies around me. I slip away.
It's like being on vacation.
And in the morning when my husband wakes he comes to the guest bedroom. I can hear him peek his head in, and if I am coherent enough I will grunt to him because "I Love You" is just too many words for me that early in the a.m.
Sometimes he will bring me a pet.
But usually he lets me enjoy sleeping like a starfish. He lets me get tangled in the cool, crisp sateen sheets that envelop the wonderfully lumpy mattress. The delightfully affordable fan is still whirring and I am happily enjoying my vacation away from the master bedroom.
Though not necessarily from him.
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