taking it to the mattresses

When I met my husband, my own mattress was a queen sized snuggle zone.  I love being able to sprawl and twist and turn and find the just right cozy spot.  When I moved it over to my husband's house, I set it up in one of the spare rooms, cuz we were using my husband's bed.

It's huge.  It's king sized, yes.  Put I practically have to pole~vault my way into it.  I say "into" because once I'm in it, I tend to sink a bit and then I have to struggle to get out.  It's one of those special sorts of beds where you have two air mattresses with lots of foam cushioning around them and it's all zipped into one king sized bag.  Well, the thing is, all that foam shifts around and then the two air mattresses sorta get all sloopy and we end up repositioning things.  Often.

Finally, my husband noticed one day that the zipper was coming apart and then the stuff was just sorta splitting wide and spilling out.  Then, he noticed that I struggle to get out of bed.  Then he noticed that he was struggling to get into bed.  And finally he said, "let's just get a new damn bed."  Well, I thought that sounded peachy.

So we now have a memory foam mattress from WalMart {yes, they have mattresses, my gawd, what does this store not have??} that was delivered today.  It came in a box, all compressed, rolled, folded, stapled, spindled, and mutilated.  No, not really.  It wasn't stapled.  Or mutilated.  But it was compressed, rolled, folded, and spindled.  Not many things are spindled anymore.  Ok, so it wasn't spindled either.

But after we pulled it out of the box, split the outer fibrous bag, unrolled, unfolded, and then removed the inner plastic bag, well then our king sized mattress just sorta puffed up from the severe compression packing techniques into a magical glorious bed {cue the angelic choir of ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhs}.  It sets on top the boxed springs we had on the other bed, all eight inches of memory foam.

Which is about two feet shorter than the mattress we just removed. Yes, I said, "two feet".  And on this, I shit you not, my friends.

I'm looking forward to getting out of bed with some ease {hopefully}, instead of flopping myself over to the edge and then slithering my hips over the edge until my feet touch the floor.  I'm not a short woman, not at all.  But the bed had been sitting right at my belly~button height.  That's friggin high for a bed!

I'll let ya know how it goes with this new bed.  New height.  New material {memory foam, dudes!}.  And this new bed?  It sits low enough that the lil chiweenie, Sophie, can hop up onto it with ease.  {oh, by the way, Sophie is now eleven pounds at five months}