Friday, February 8, 2008

Achy Breaky Heart

My achy breaky heart has been a direct result of my achy breaky back.

Tim and I are cheap. Tim has always been cheap. In fact, the first year of our marriage he worked with a sweet lady name Ellary who dubbed him "Mr. Frugal." I think it came about in part because of his 99-cent Michelina's and Ramen Noodle lunches, but either way he had a reputation for cheapness. We bought the cheapest mattress money could buy when we got married. I mean so, so cheap. Like maybe 100 bucks for the whole set. Yeah, you can imagine how comfortable that was. We upgraded once but not by much and then about six years ago we bought a memory foam knock-off from Ebay.

FYI: "knock-off" means they knock several hundred dollars off of the price while also knocking off all true and accurate claims of quality. It didn't help that this major falsely advertised mattress came at the same time I decided we should be "all that" by sleeping on recycled wood pallets as a pseudo-platform bed-Asian decor sort of thing. It looked cool enough. It felt horrible. With four children and soon to be 34 years old -cool is no longer relevant.

And here we were several years later and things hadn't improved much. You wiser and more thoughtful readers are saying "you get what you pay for." We concur. Suffice it to say that when you begin dreaming that strangers have attacked you, are kicking you, and sending excruciating shots of pain up your back only to awaken and realize that it was your brains attempt to tell you that you really do have excruciating shots of pain going up your's time to suck it up and spend some money.

This morning, we went mattress shopping. We bounced, we laid on our backs, our sides, our tummies. We skittered around the store with our shoes off (all four kids took their shoes off, too, just for the fun of it.) We compared, switched sides, compared some more, switched matresses, and on and on for about an hour. And at last we made our choice. The most glorious chunk of cotton/foam/fluff-n-stuff ever! I think it actually hugged my bum when I laid on it. You had me at "pillow-top." Tim says it smiled at him. It new we were the ones it was created for. ah. Oh, but we didn't stop there. No siree, two brand new pillows and sheets. Not that 200 thread count sand paper we were used to. Not on my new mattress. I got the mac-daddy of sheet sets: 600 thread count Egyptian Cotton! I don't know who the poor Egyptian sucker is who had to count all those threads but I hope it's worth it. (yeah, actually, the sheets were on major clearance. I could only fight the cheapness so much in one day.)

Now, I know it's a lot of pressure for one bed to bear but (wait a sec! I mean that in regards to the forthcoming comments NOT in regard to the weight of myself and my husband -just to clarify) I fully anticipate that by tomorrow morning I will be a better person. I will be a better wife and a better mom. I may even be a better blogger. I honestly can't tell you the last time I remember sleeping through an entire night. I don't remember what it's like to not hurt and ache all day; to not feel just as tired in the morning as I did the night before. My worst fear right now is that I am so anticipating the night's sleep that I will lay there wide awake. Oh well, at least I will be a comfortable, bum-hugged insomniac for a change.


Anonymous said...

I actually KNOW the poor Egyptian sucker who counts the've offended me and him. He is not in it for the money, I can tell you that much.

A good bed is no small thing, glad you decided to do it -you deserve it!

love you

The Sexton Crew said...

Sneaky, huh, Mrs. Livesay?

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