Updated: February 8, 2021
Originally Published: April 11, 2014
As a parent, my abilities fluctuate wildly. Some days, I manage to function adequately as a human being and caregiver. Other days, I question how I ever left the hospital with a newborn—let alone four. Today was one of those latter days.
It had been ages since I last tackled the task of changing sheets and making beds—perhaps dating back to an ice age. With one queen-sized bed, two sets of bunk beds, and a crib, we’re looking at a considerable amount of bedding to contend with: 2 + 4, carry the 5, and throw in 500 stuffed animals and 15 stray socks that seem to appear from nowhere. It’s a lot of fabric.
I tend to avoid this household chore like it’s a strenuous workout or a tedious committee meeting. As I delicately placed the final touches on my three-year-old’s lower bunk, my eight-year-old piped up, “Mommy, can you make my bed too?”
“Of course, sweetheart! Yours is next,” I replied, feeling quite proud of my parenting prowess for a brief three minutes—until I began my ascent to the top bunk, which might as well have been Everest. The ladder itself seemed to mock me, saying, “Look at the big one trying to climb us! She can’t even figure it out.” Arriving at the summit was shocking.
It looked like a prison up there—no sheets and a staggering 15 books stuffed under the pillow. Not a fitted sheet in sight. Did I mention NO SHEETS? The mattress? Well, it was not even a proper mattress; it was a toddler bed pad that had been split into three sections. I felt utterly defeated.
“Ummm, how long have you been without sheets?” I asked incredulously.
“I don’t know. A while, I think,” she replied.
“Why are you sleeping on those flimsy pads? What happened?”
“I think it was when you were fixing the beds last time. You couldn’t finish? I don’t remember. It was a while ago.”
Her memoir, “I Don’t Remember. It Was a While Ago,” is destined to be the new classic for parents everywhere.
The only thing missing from that top bunk was a metal cup for her to rattle against the bed guard.
But it gets better: the unused top bunk of my son’s bed was outfitted like a luxurious hotel room, complete with a double mattress, an eggshell mattress topper, sheets, two pillows, and multiple blankets—perfect for the invisible guest who surely deserves a restful night’s sleep.
I spent the next couple of hours hauling mattresses, fluffing pillows, and re-arranging bedding. I tucked the corners and used the softest sheets available to dress poor Cinderella’s bed. How could I have overlooked this for weeks—no, months? Ah yes, the ladder; that fiend.
I exchanged kisses at the foot of the bed, because nobody puts baby in a corner—unless it’s the corner of an unmade prison cot.
On the upside, I walked away with newfound respect for my daughter. She never complained about her lack of sheets or the state of her mattress pads. Each night, she simply kissed us goodnight and climbed to her barren bed.
The old fable suggests that a princess would feel a pea beneath layers of mattresses, but I believe a true princess would do exactly as my daughter has—kiss her family goodnight and make the best of a less-than-perfect situation.
In the face of my shortcomings, we have raised a bona fide princess. Here’s hoping she marries into royalty; we could all benefit from a touch of Egyptian cotton around here.
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Summary:
In this candid reflection, the author shares a humorous yet sobering account of the chaotic realities of parenting, particularly the challenges of maintaining a household. While recounting the experience of making beds and discovering a lack of sheets in her daughter’s bunk, the author highlights the resilience and adaptability of children. Ultimately, this piece encourages parents to appreciate the small victories and the incredible strength of their kids, all while navigating the ups and downs of family life.
Keyphrase: Parenting challenges
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