|Looks cozy, huh? (Homage to Ren & Stimpy)|
I grew up with a queen size bed. I think I was 3 when I took up residence of it, maybe 4, I don't remember. I always had stuffed animals and each year I acquired more and more. I had these theories about monsters getting me in my sleep. For instance, if everything was covered but my head they wouldn't eat me, because heads are hard for monsters to chew. Likewise, my theory was that if I was surrounded by stuffed animals the monsters wouldn't see me and would look elsewhere for their midnight snack. I think that is where my interest in sleeping in a sardine can started.
When I moved out of my parents' house and moved in with my first husband, I took the queen bed with me (not the kick-ass frame, just the mattress/box springs.) I had cats at the time and a rabbit and I had no problem letting them on the bed. After a year, we moved to a different house. A couple months later we started acquiring dogs, along with the few cats I already had, but only two were allowed in the house (we lived out in the country.)
Anyway, more and more dogs started moving into the home, I had my first child and the queen size bed quickly became way too cramped. We upgraded to a king size, which pretty much meant more room for dogs. I had one dog that liked to sleep between my legs so if I wanted to roll over at night I had to try to maneuver without disturbing him or I'd get growled at.
As my marriage started to deteriorate, the distance between us on the bed seemed to get bigger and bigger. The dogs eventually got banished from the bedroom (he hated animals), both my kids started sleeping in between us on the bed, and eventually he chose to stay up all night and crash on the couch in his man cave every night. That left me in the king size bed with my two kids.
When I left my husband and moved to another town, I let him keep the bed and I took the big TV. The only beds I had when I moved were two twin mattress sets that my parents gave me for my kids that used to be in my brothers' room. So when we moved, I pushed the beds together and slept in the middle of my two kids. It stayed that way until my [now husband] moved in with me. I had actually sweet talked him into letting me "borrow" his bed from his apartment because he had a futon. Of course the bed never left and we still have it now and that is what we sleep on.
I love it. I've never been in that small of a bed every night and I feel secure in my little sardine can. There is room to cuddle and room to each be on our own sides. I like knowing that if I move a foot, there's someone there (the kids stopped sleeping in bed with me after I "borrowed" David's full size bed.)
But for the past year, David has been pushing to get a bigger bed. I keep objecting. I usually say it is a waste of money, we don't have the room, etc., but really I think it is psychological. I feel like the farther apart we are in bed, the farther apart we become emotionally. I also feel a sense of security having that little room. About a week ago he pushed again for a bigger bed. I didn't answer and just pretended he didn't ask.
I guess I just feel like I don't want there to be any space between us. Whether it stems from sleeping in a sardine can all my life or whether it reminds me of the downfall of my last marriage, that gap that would be there in a larger bed seems miles apart, even though it is mere inches.