Princess and the Pea

My entire adult life, I have slept on a double (what I lovingly call a big girl bed) pillow top mattress that might as well be 402 years old. So soft and snuggly, it hugged my entire body whenever I flopped on it and the last few years has resembled a taco due to the large dip in the middle.

Princess and the dreaded pea.

Queen CBXB with a princess problem.

Being in love with my big girl bed, I couldn’t stand the thought of upgrading to an adult cradle with ample room for my ass and two cats until one was offered to me free of charge.

A queen for a Queen.

A queen for a Queen.

Purchased two years ago and barely used as a guest bed, I jumped at the chance to upgrade figuring if I didn’t, I would be glued to my double sized mattress for the next 40 decades (I love what I love and hate parting ways).


De-virginizing my adult bed.

Much to this queen’s dismay, my new bed is extra, extra, extra firm and after being hugged by the fluffiness of a pillow top mattress for as many years as I can remember, my slumber equaled that of an insomniac.

What. the. fuck.

What. the. fuck.

Not only was my sleep tank well below empty, my back and body ached. While my figure is more Jennifer Lopez than Gwyneth Paltrow, I concluded only skinny people with no hips or curves love a firm mattress, as it felt I had slept on a 2 x 4 board at a construction site.

Flat as a pancake, stiff as a board.

The very flat bane of my curvy existence.

Giving my new mattress a few more evenings to adjust, I simply became bitchier and bitcher the less sleep consumed.  Being that I received this mattress free of charge, I splurged on a pillow top mattress pad in order to avoid morphing into a character from a horror movie.

Surely this beyond expensive genius creation would solve my sleepless nights.

Fluffy for the fluff.

Fluffy as feathers.

Flinging my body on the pseudo pillow top, I thought my sleepless in Nashville struggles were ending.

All is right in my kingdom.

First world problems solved.

Turns out, three inches of squishy fabric didn’t cut it.


Still negative on the zzzz’s.

Every flip, flop, twist and turn was met with bit more comfort but it still felt as if there was a steel pea situating itself in between my spine and the rest of my body.

Mother fucking pea.

Who knew a mother fucking pea could cause so much misery?

Looking like a cast member of The Walking Dead, I once again shuffled down the aisles of Target looking for a solution to my sleepless problem with tears of longing for my old double bed forming in my eyes.

What have I done?! Messing with my precious sleep for a few more inches of much-needed space in order to justify being a grown up?! I want taco bed back!

Then, my bloodshot gaze fell upon my last line of defense…

Big Boy.

A memory foam mattress topper.

Inserting the cushy topper in between the stiff bed and my fluffy mattress cover, I now had a cushy six inches between my hips and the despised queen mattress.

Another layer of ooey gooey goodness.

Another layer of ooey gooey goodness added to the mix.

Anxiously crossing my fingers, toes, legs (and anything else I could think of), this queen was hoping for endless hours of required beauty rest.

I wish I may, I wish I might, have a solid sleep tonight.

I wish I may, I wish I might, have a solid sleep tonight.

Turns out that I’m not only six degrees from Kevin Bacon but six is also the number of inches required to pad my curves for a royal night’s sleep.


Six is the lucky number!

Problem being solved is a fabulous thing but if I’d simply saved the money spent trying to mirror my old bed, I’d quite possibly be the owner of a brand new pillow top queen mattress.

It’s hard being blonde.

Kiss off

A pea fit for a royal museum.

No more princess and the pea for me –


Beauty sleep score!

I can now go back to being the Queen I’m meant to be!