My 8 year old is a bed snob.

Looking back, this started last year when he began stealing the cozy blanket off of my bed. Every night I’d climb in, ready to snuggle up with my soft, cuddly friend only to find it missing. For Christmas, he received his own blanket and fuzzy pillowcase. He was more ecstatic than when he got a new bike last year.

Over quarantine, Big Luke built a tree house for the boys. It was a sleepy dream land in there complete with sleeping pads, blankets, pillows and twinkle lights. After the first night, he declared that he would never sleep out there again. “Why?” we asked, “Your dad just built that for you?”

“It isn’t comfortable,” he complained. “My bed is so cozy.”

As an adult, I understood. Beds are cozy. You weren’t going to find me out there. But he’s 8 so sleeping in a tree house should be the most fun thing ever. Plus, HIS DAD BUILT IT FOR HIM.

Every time he goes to his grandparents house, he insists on sleeping in the bed while his siblings sleep on the floor. He won’t sleep in his brother’s bed because it’s too “sandy.” Finally, he announced that he will only be sleeping in his bed or on one particular couch, FOR-EV-ER.

I have to take some ownership here. When we purchased a new mattress several years ago, we upgraded the kids as well. It’s the most comfortable thing ever. Plus, I love comforters and quilts and linens and pillows, OH MY.
I created this monster.

Generally, being a snob isn’t a good thing in my book. Snobs are inflexible and unadaptable, not to mention high and mighty. I was a little concerned.

To give some insight into the mama brain for those of you who aren’t mamas, here is the rabbit-hold that my mind went down when his final announcement was made.

Oh GOD. We are never going to be able to go on vacation.
Or if we do, he’s going to sleep terribly and then be a bear.
Wait?! What about sleep overs? Big Luke and I are never going to get a night to ourselves.
Oh no! College? How can he sleep on those dorm mattresses?
There is NO WAY I will be getting him a nice mattress when he’s in his 20’s. No way. He’s going to have to be like the rest of us and sleep on whatever his parents give him and be grateful for it. OH LAWD.
It’s all my fault. I feel bad for his future spouse. She’s going to hate me. What if she’s not a bed snob, too? That will really be a problem for them.
He’s ruined. I’ve ruined him.
I’ve got to fix this.

These crazy thoughts circulated for a few days. And no, my life is not so luxurious that I have the time or capacity to give credit to such insignificant issues. These are the things that drive me bananas because they’re so DUMB but apparently so is the mom brain at times.

So, this morning, I’m at the kitchen sink, doing the dishes, staring out the window when it occurs to me that maybe his “bed snobbery” isn’t the worse thing that could happen to him. (DUH) Maybe it will keep him from sleeping in gross, dirty or uncomfortable places. Maybe he will make a nice “bed” for himself one day and take care of it and keep it clean. Maybe his concern for his bed is a metaphor for his life . . .

(If my earlier rant didn’t convince you, now you can be certain that the mom brain is a truly scary place.)

I also remembered a promise that I made to myself when they were born. I promised (promise here is an understatement- I declared with my whole heart and everything holy in the world) that I would love these babies so well that they would never accept less than mama-style love AND that the love circulating around our house would show them how to love others well. Whatever choices they make in their lives, whoever they chose to allow into their hearts, how they are treated and treat others one day when they are on their own, I will have no control over. While they are here in our house, we will love to the best of our ability.

So guys, it’s a stretch, I know, but maybe my evil-genius-mom-love plan will work. We’ve worked hard to create a welcoming and safe place for him to lay his head at night and he’s turned into a bed snob. We’re working hard to LOVE him with humility, forgiveness, and a whole heart, so maybe he will be good at love too.

I don’t know. A mama can hope. Hope is everything.

XO, Lauren

Above pic: Luke used to fall asleep anywhere, even standing up while leaning against his bed one night. Here he is crashed on a chair.

Below: Charlie Mac as a bitty baby snuggled up in the coveted cozy blanket on my bed.