I had read about the wonders of a body pillow from fellow pregnant bloggers. They sang the praises of the device, promising how it would REVOLUTIONIZE MY SLEEPING. So I bought one. Now, it’s quite possible that I’m at fault here, thinking that the $9.99 polyester-stuffed Target version would suffice. However, I’m not usually one to believe that you always get what you pay for. I mean, my Target-brand prenatal vitamins are JUST AS EFFECTIVE as the $30 Stewart Prenatals. And they’re loads and loads cheaper.
So the pillow. I bought it. I also bought a cover for it – the only one they had, a weird dark brown cheapy "velour-like" pillow case, also on sale. It’s the color of poo. At the time of purchase, Target had either the poo brown or a sort of jaunty violent turquoise – I had these visions of getting the turquoise and telling Chip I was going to redecorate our room using it as a jumping off point. I laughed at myself. And then I bought the brown. Because I am not that crazy, nor that sadistic.
To put it lightly, The Pillow and I have not enjoyed one another’s company. The “velour” fabric, is just… not. I’m having a hard time even putting the “velour” in “quotes” because it’s so far from anything like velour, which is no great luxury, either. I imagine it’s crafted from those green plastic strawberry baskets – melted down, tinged with poo additive coloring, and then miraculously woven into A VERY REALISTIC VELOUR-LIKE “FABRIC”. The weird fuzziness catches on my sheets. It makes it hard to cuddle and hold and straddle the way EVERYONE PROMISED ME I SHOULD WHEN I AM FORCED TO SLEEP ON MY SIDE. There’s also the fact that I’ve been waking up with a fiery throbbing ear – whichever ear has been forced to bear the brunt of side-sleeping. WHAT IS THAT? And yet, every night, I attempt to wrestle with The Pillow. I attempt to sleep with The Pillow. I’m sure it’s making something better in there for the Bean, right? So even as I’m suffering in non-silence (BEHOLD MY NON-SILENCE), the Bean is enjoying her sleeping quarters without suffering from Permanent Brain/Ear Damage From Ill-Advised Mother’s Sleeping Poses.
As much as I have, at best, curmudgeonly respect for The Pillow and how it’s supposedly making my side-sleeping that much more comfy, the rest of the household is truly enjoying it.
The Pillow is Phoebe’s new boyfriend, replacing her former pretend boyfriend, the Travelocity Roaming Gnome (true: every time that irritating fellow is on the TV – PHOEBE, THERE’S YOUR BOYFRIEND! And then we’d break into I’M ON MY WAYYYYYYYY!). Unlike TRG, who was never around, and made empty promises of being on his way, The Pillow is really there for Phoebe. She sleeps on it every day, kneading into its freakishly resilient fuzzy brown skin. The Pillow allows Phoebe to cuddle without fear of recrimination (or Chip shrieking: YOUR NAILS! ARE LITTLE NEEDLES! INJECTING MY SKIN! ---which I always love to add, from the needle-free sidelines: But they’re injecting love, Chip, can’t you see that?). Phoebe’s least favorite time with The Pillow is when I get into bed – because suddenly her boyfriend is called into service under the covers, and she can no longer drape her body over him.
Chip realized two nights ago that The Pillow is strangely similar in size and color to this nifty and hilarious present I bought the cats a year ago: The Catnip Cigar. It’s this small brown fabric tube (sound familiar?), filled to the brim with some kind of uber catnip, the catnip that WILL NOT DIE. The catnip that fills cats’ senses with unseemly pleasure, leaving them rolly, slobbery, lifeless, and limp. The catnip toy that I cannot seem to hide effectively, because THEY ALWAYS FIND IT. On top of the skinny display cabinet in the dining room? Fergus found it in 3 days. Leaving the frighteningly wet catnip cigar on the couch in a disgusting saliva puddle. On top of the refrigerator? Probably a team effort, but somehow they got up there – fished it out of a bowl – and then proceeded to hold the longest catnip orgy our living room has ever seen. There were bits of MAIL on the floor after that one. I’ve been hiding the cigar inside the cabinet with the glasses, hoping it will dry out before I find a new hiding place. So Chip remarked two nights ago, as he was lying on the bed, The Pillow wedged up against him – “Hey! Who am I???” And then he grabs The Pillow in a massive bear hug, rolls onto his back, and proceeds to kick The Pillow’s hind portion with his legs. Repeatedly.
Pillows. Cigars. Catnip orgies. Can you IMAGINE the Google hits my blog is going to get after this?