Our Family Bed

I recently read that Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie had a 9ft bed specially made so that it would fit themselves and their 4 children. Brad was then quoted as saying that they would soon need to move up to an 11 ft. bed.
As flawed as my imagination might be, I couldn’t help but picture a stunning Angelina in satin nightie and flowing hair propped up on her elbow looking lovingly across 4 spread eagled children towards an equally handsome and well coiffed Brad. They reach out their hands to try and touch fingertips together but come up several feet short, smile fondly and then stretch out with infinite space in which to seek restful sleep.

I actually felt a little sad for them as I lay tightly snuggled against my husband’s back in our full sized bed. The baby, having gotten up 20 minutes earlier, was tucked into the crook of my arm with his head resting on my shoulder. I sigh contentedly.
I hear footsteps and Joshua appears at our door. He sees us still sleeping and comes and climbs in at the bottom of the bed. He intertwines his body around our legs and quietly snuggles in. The baby begins to thrash and whine a little as I adjust my body to accommodate Josh and the disturbance brings a grumble from my husband’s back.
We re-adjust and everyone quiets down again.
The door creaks and I see Ben sneaking in with his arms laden with 2 stuffed animals, a sippy cup, book and his Buzz Lightyear toy that has lights that spin above his head when the legs are pressed together. He starts to chuck his paraphernalia into the bed hitting Brett in the back with his sippy cup and the baby in the head with the book. The quiet is now officially broken. He hoists his body into the bed and seeing that all horizontal space is taken, firmly positions himself on my face.
Brett glances over his shoulder with a scowl and scoots closer to the edge so that the ice cold sippy cup is no longer pressed against his back, but now falls into a crack to begin rapidly leaking onto the sheets. I move my head to find an air pocket and re-adjust the baby so I can rub the tiny bump developing on his forehead. I no longer have a view of the door but become aware of the presence of another child when the mattress dips heavily and my chest becomes uncomfortably restricted. I adjust my breathing to take shallow breaths and fight desperately to keep my air pocket open when Josh starts screaming “OW! Mom, you’re kicking me!!”
“Sorry, I’m just trying to breathe.”
“Why can’t they sleep in their own beds?” comes the cranky response from the shivering mound now desperately trying to fit his 6ft frame into the 4 remaining inches on the side of the bed.
“Josh! I want some covers, you can’t take them all!” whines Will and begins a tug of war that quickly removes all remaining air from my lungs.
I feel a warm, oozy sludge run slowly down my neck and into my hair as I begin to lose consciousness.
I’m in a tunnel now and see light up ahead. It is flashing and colorful and I begin to run towards it. I reach up and feel something hard and cold. I crack and eye and realize that it’s Buzz Lightyear with his lights buzzing wildly above his head.
Brett has finally given up his attempt to ignore the 4 children screaming and jumping on his bruised and battered body and rolls off the last 2 inches of mattress and onto the floor. The shift sends the mountain of children falling off my chest and oxygen floods back into my lungs.

I’m laying in the cold, wet remnants of the emptied sippy cup with spit up plastered and crusting in my hair. The kids are still fighting over blankets at the foot of the bed and Ben is animatedly playing with his 2 stuffed animals. Desperate for some of the tranquility I woke up with, I seek out Sam and lovingly cradle him on my chest. He looks at me and smiles past his pacifier. I smile back as he reaches up and removes the drippy, drooly binky from his mouth and firmly shoves it in my mouth.
I bolt upright sputtering and spitting with children flying everywhere as I jerk pillows and blankets out from under them to try and wipe out my mouth. I barely grab Sam’s leg as he begins to topple over the side and the incensed cries and yells from fallen children fill the room. Breathing heavily I look over at my husband who still has a sour look on his face and firmly declare “I want a 9 foot bed!”