I was drifting in and out of sleep and was not sure how to get up and get out without disturbing them. This went on till 8:15 when finally I got some help in the form of my husband who brought a pillow to replace me, and the kids continued to sleep for a few more minutes.
While I was drifting in and out of sleep, I remembered my love for my own bed. I am a person who loves my space and bed is something I would never share or compromise on!
When we were kids it was a mat that we slept on, even if we had a bed we had to share it with our grandparents. We got our own beds only when I was about 14. That is when we got our own bedroom too, my brother and myself had to share a bedroom. We were allowed to enter the bedroom only at night.
When I moved to a hostel was when things changed for me. I had to share a room with three other girls and I felt the bed was the only area which I could call “my space” in that tiny room. I made sure that my study chair and desk were as close to the bed as possible too. That is when the bed became much more than a place to sleep for me. My bed was where I read books, where I wrote my college records, where I cried when I felt homesick, in short, my bed became my whole world.
Later on when I moved from one hostel to another to do my further studies and work, the bed became my home, my world. When you are sharing your place with other people, a small area that you can call your own becomes your world, specially for someone that likes their space! I never wanted anyone to even touch my bed. I was very fussy about it. I’ve always liked my sheets clean and bright and smelling nice. My bed would always have a pillow, a sheet to cover myself, a bottle of vicks and a bottle of water. That doesn’t sound there is too much in my world, does it? But that was enough to make me feel comfortable.
Over the years, things have changed, thin sheets to cover myself were replaced with thicker duvets, depending on which part of the world I was in, the bottle of vicks vanished, the bottle of water continued to stay, I ended up having to share my bed with my other half and now I have two little additions to my bed.
From a person who hated to share my bed, now I changed to a person who cannot sleep without my son’s head on my one hand and my daughter’s leg on my legs. I vaguely remember my friend trying to warn me when my son was born, “Don’t co-sleep, your child will get used to it and it will be very difficult to get your child out of your bed!” And me being me, was worried then, even though I didn’t listen to her advice at all. Now I am worried that I am so used to this that I don’t want them to get out of my bed.
My bed has expanded and so has my world expanded and it still continues to be the most comfortable place in the world for me.