Tempur-Pedic Has Ruined My Life

My little brood spent four nights in the north Georgia mountains at the home of my in-laws. While there, we had a wonderful family Christmas, ate ourselves silly, and watched our kids light up at the sight of cookie crumbs left by Santa when he delivered their new toys.

And the Ty-man and I? Didn't sleep.

When I found out I was pregnant with the twins four years ago, our friend Chip (a dedicated Tempur-Pedic sleeper) declared, "Ty! You've gotta get a Tempur-Pedic!"

When I was placed on bed rest? Chip determined that the only way to spend a month in bed was on That Fabulous Foam Mattress.

And after the twins were born? That's all we heard from Chip, constantly, every other sentence, "So, when are you getting our girl a piece of Swedish Foam Heaven?"

Within a few months of the twins' birth, the Ty-man finally succumbed to pressure and we became the proud owners of our very own queen-sized Tempur-Pedic mattress. And we were immediately ruined.

I can't go on vacation or visit with family without lying on the hotel bed, or on the bed in my MIL's guest bedroom, or on the bed in any bedroom while thinking, "Yep, there's definitely a spring in my kidney. I'll try lying on my back. Whoops, now there's one in my buttcrack and the backs of my knees. Screw it, I'll sleep on my stomach. Nope. Now my uterus is pissed." And there I was, the entire Christmas holiday, every morning until 4AM, counting the springs in the mattress. Until I would finally give up and surf the Tempur-Pedic site making pitiful sighing noises and stroking the computer screen.

When I'm Empress of the Universe, I shall buy Tempur-Pedics for every home, every hotel.

Because I'm just that friggin' selfish.