Early to bed, early to rise. Who am I kidding, I'm never getting up.

During the freeze earlier this month that was (insert big scary TV newscaster voice) The Polar Vortex!!!, Husband purchased a heated mattress pad for our bed. Since we currently don't have insulation in out attic or in the ceiling of our basement, 2deg outside is not much warmer inside despite the furnace pumping away all night.

I was pretty scoffy about the heated pad.  I know scoffy isn’t a word but it describes my attitude with the whole thing. Husband likes his things to be shiny new things that turn on and plug in and I'm pretty scoffy about all of them.   Most of the shiny new things end up being his toys regardless of the gift to me.  Take the iPod boom box thing – he has used it non stop during this remodel and it’s now covered in paint at sawdust.   My phone is the exception.  And so I would scoff whenever Husband would say, “You’re gonna love what I got for you.”

Consider me a reformed scoffer. 

This heated mattress pad is like no joy I’ve ever known.  I've had electric blankets before but they are a bulky pokey mess compared to the heated pad.  Slipping into bed at night is like slipping into the perfect temp in a hot tub only there's no water to go up your nose and the top of your head isn't wet and cold. It’s like a full body massage without the awkward oils and touching and your body parts getting cold and stiff while other body parts are getting massaged.  It is just pure molten heaven.  

Husband has even stopped laying pillows between us so I don’t touch him with my feet icicles or I don’t move the blanket and let in the dreaded cold air.  

Our bed with two quilts four blankets. Freakin' cold!

He was doing this nightly and getting more than pissy when I started my nightly circus cartwheels. I feared that this bedding would be necessary to save our marriage.  

The bonus being you wouldn't be able to see the pen stains on the sheets from all those times I forgot to cap the pen before falling asleep.  The reality is, this bedding would really be more accurate.  And fair. 

But now, because of the wonder of our heated mattress pad, we don't argue over sheets and sides and cartwheels.  We’ve both been going to bed earlier and earlier, groaning loudly moans of pure joy as we slide in and snuggle down, toasty warm from toes to nose.  


The dog doesn’t know what to make of us, though odds are, she decided we were nuts long ago.  I also think she’d prefer this bedding but it’s not going to happen.  EVER!