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About A Bed
The first thing I did after my partner moved out six years ago was splurge on a new bed. Not just any bed, but a gigantic Tempur-Pedic that set me back nearly $4,000—definitely not the most responsible financial choice at the time. Yet, I’d argue it was the best investment I ever made. It was mainly symbolic; I couldn’t stand the thought of sleeping in the same bed I had shared with my ex, which had been the backdrop for countless heated arguments and hollow morning reconciliations. But it was also practical. During the later years of my relationship, I had developed severe stress-induced insomnia, and this high-tech bed promised some relief.
I didn’t just upgrade to a new bed; I also went from a queen to a king size. Maybe not the most practical move—who exactly was going to occupy the other half?—but along with saying goodbye to the matrimonial mattress, I was eager to burn the bedding too, and this was the perfect excuse for a fresh start.
My kids were so young then, just 5 and 2, when I sat them down one winter weekend to share the news that would change their lives forever. They were far too naïve to grasp what “Daddy isn’t going to live with us anymore” meant. Knowing nothing would ever be the same for them, I decided to embrace this new normal and establish fresh traditions for the three of us.
I never anticipated these traditions would last as long as they have, but six years later, what started as overly enthusiastic, “we will have fun if it kills us,” ideas are still going strong. One of the first inspirations was Sunday Fun Day. On random Sundays, I wake the kids up, bribe them with doughnuts to get ready quickly, and then we head off to a surprise destination. As they bounce with excitement from the sugar rush, they frantically guess where we’re going. Over the years, we’ve explored the zoo, gone apple and pumpkin picking, ice-skated, bounced at trampoline parks, visited the Smithsonian museums, and even trekked to Baltimore for the National Aquarium and the Maryland Science Center.
Matching Christmas Eve pajamas became another cherished family tradition, which began that first year we decorated the tree without their dad. Initially, I got to choose the patterns and styles, but now they spend weeks looking through catalogs to find just the right set. While I may cringe at wearing red and green Star Wars-themed long johns, I’ve saved every year’s pajamas to have them made into quilts someday.
Their favorite tradition, by far, is Sleepover Night. It began as a way to comfort my daughter when her dad didn’t show up one evening as planned. I let her snuggle in my bed, put on a movie, made popcorn, and dubbed it a sleepover. We’ve followed the same basic routine nearly every weekend since. Once her little brother graduated from the crib, we invited him to join in on the fun.
As the years have passed, Sleepover Night has changed a bit, but not by much. We had to move my son to a chaise longue a few years ago due to his thrashing (he now sleeps there comfortably). The movie selection has shifted more towards Marvel than Pixar, and while we’ve become a bit erratic with the popcorn-making, the essence remains. Sometimes we skip Sleepover Night for social events, and other times, due to snowstorms or illnesses, it stretches into an extra night or two.
The bed, now long paid off, remains a sanctuary. It served as a literal island when we had our floors redone last year, being the only uncovered surface for two weeks. We affectionately named it “Bed Island,” and it became a couch, table, and lounge area. Whenever anyone in the house feels down, it’s my bed they crawl under for comfort.
Last night, the kids dug out their Star Wars holiday pajamas and insisted I wear mine too, so we could all match for Sleepover Night. Now 11 and 8, I can’t help but wonder how much longer they’ll want to spend their weekends munching on popcorn and watching movies with me, not to mention wearing matching jammies. I asked them if they’d still want to have sleepovers when they hit their teenage years. “Of course!” they shouted. When I probed about college, my daughter confidently responded, “I’ll come home every weekend.” I smiled, aware that everything will inevitably change again, but I am sure we will keep devising new traditions.
Then we all piled onto the bed and hit play.
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Summary:
After her partner moved out, Emily splurged on a new, expensive bed to mark a fresh start for herself and her two young children. Over the years, they created new traditions such as Sunday Fun Day, matching Christmas pajamas, and Sleepover Night. These rituals helped the family adapt to their new life, providing comfort and joy amid changes. Emily reflects on the lasting impact of these traditions as her children grow up.