Bedroom Bedlam — Again

In the early days of our marriage, we bought a new mattress. It wasn’t a mattress made in matrimonial bliss. So, we returned it and purchased another … and another. We couldn’t get it right. One was too soft. One was too hard. We couldn’t agree. This went on and on. It was absolute bedroom bedlam.

My mother worried there was a larger meaning to our bed distress. My best girlfriend and brother did too.

They stressed about marital discord. They discussed — yes, they discussed — a lack of sexual harmony.

My girlfriend took me aside to talk. “No, we’re fine,” I said, embarrassed and aghast.

My mother took a turn. “We’re fine,” I re-affirmed, red in the face, stomping my feet.

Then, my brother took Handsome Hubby out for a drink, bro-a-bro-in-law. “We’re FINE,” Jon shouted above the bar’s din.

My grandmother had a different opinion regarding the source of the problem. “It’s because she can’t cook. I knew this would be an issue. It’s not too late. I can teach her. She’s a smart girl.”

Grrr.

Bedroom Bedlam Resolved

Happily, we eventually settled on a mattress, thus ending our sleep woes and the awkward family/friend interventions.

Now, alas, the time has come for another new mattress. Our old mattress, like my body, sags. Throw in my bad back, achy hips, and sleep apnea along with HH’s restless leg syndrome, there’s no alternative. We desperately need new bedding badly.

Still, given our bed-bedlam history, I am very afraid of what will ensue.

As for the world, make that universe of mattresses, it is vast and complicated. There are so many to choose! Coil. Foam. Hybrid. “Cooling.” And something called “Purple.”

Plus, talk about a range of prices! Today you can buy a mattress that costs more than a car used to! Man, oh, man! And are those pricey babes worth it? I have no idea! I mean I’d practically pay anything for a good night’s sleep, but still, I’m skeptical, aren’t you?

At the top of the price heap are the Hästens mattresses. I haven’t tried them, but The New York Times raves. The brand’s claim to fame, price aside, is horsehair.

According to The NYT, “the mane and tail strands are heat-treated, braided, and steamed to create a permanent curl, (which creates) a loose, springy structure that feels airy yet supportive. The fibers are hollow, and this helps the mattress feel breathable by wicking away moisture and excess heat.”

Go on …

“Below the horsehair, 2,340 individual springs offer a sensation that is as delightful to experience as it is difficult to describe—but imagine being suspended in a tide of soft, shifting air, cradled yet free.”

To all this, I say “horse feathers.”

In all, the company offers an array of mattresses with prices ranging from a mere $14,000 up to $600,000.

To that, I can only gulp and gasp.

Bedroom Bedlam Round Two

This much I know. I’m a firm mattress gal. HH is a softie.

I did read about one mattress that sounds appealing — the Leesa. It’s one of those fancy schmacy hybrids. Not too hard. Not too soft. Plus it has that cooling feature which is all the rage among trendy mattress aficionados.

But there’s a problem — the name.

Leesa is my niece’s name. I cannot quite picture myself sleeping on Leesa. It sounds wrong. Cruel. Even a tad incestuous. I just don’t know if I can do it.

So, I fear HH and I are back to Square One, headed on a one-way street toward major mattress and matrimonial mayhem. And this time around, my mother, my brother, and my best girlfriend are all gone. Unless there are iPhone calls to Heaven, HH and I are on our own to sort through this pending purchase debacle.

Can this marriage be saved?