These days I’m finding it unusually hard to get out of bed. It’s not the time change, hateful and inhumane though it is. And it’s not that I spend each sleeping minute lumped upon by three dead-weight felines, whose combined corpulence equals thirty-six pounds of purring, furry, gelatinous cat. No. It’s the fact that our new mattress pad begins each night with about as much give as a slab of concrete, but by morning it has the structural integrity of warm marshmallow.
Here’s a tip: Do not buy a mattress that tries, night after night, to eat you.
Once upon a time, investing in a Memory Foam mattress topper seemed like a sensible plan. Long before we met, my husband — who had taken to sleeping on the floor of his college dorm room — finally broke down and purchased a bed. Since habit dictated that even carpeting was too soft for sleep, he asked for the firmest mattress they had. Unfortunately, they delivered. He was thrilled. Plywood would have been softer, and asphalt more forgiving. Life was perfect.
As it turned out, when I married my husband his bed came with him. While I immediately abhorred the thing, hubs’s turnaround came more slowly. Recently, after years of tingling fingers, aching shoulders, and dead arms, I made an executive decision: It was time for a new mattress.
Here’s another tip: Executive decisions should only be made after a full night of sleep.
To our surprise, mattresses, while they seem simple, cost as much as both our cars put together, but without the handy test drive to make sure everything feels okay. Time for a new plan. And so, several weeks later, a thick, gray, queen-sized expanse of foam came into our lives. Filled with enthusiasm, we tore open the box, poured it out, and ripped off the plastic bag in which it came. Then we stood back as it slowly unfurled itself, like a prehistoric beast stretching after a long winter’s sleep. We watched it rapturously. Soon life would be perfect, our dreams delightful and uninterrupted, our nights unmarred by discomfort.
The cats were more skeptical, sniffing the air around it with great distrust, jumping away when we nudged it, and daring one another to cross its dimpled expanse. Dropping them in the center sparked duck-and-cover maneuvering as they tried to escape this brand new enemy.
Final tip: Sometimes cats have a good point.
Bubbling with anticipation, we ignored their fears. Instead, we tossed it into place on top of the old mattress, fitted the sheets over it, and waited for night to fall. To our horror ((mine more than my husband’s)), though, when bedtime hit we quickly discovered that our revolutionary new Memory Foam mattress topper morphs into a four-inch-thick brick in the cold evening air. We didn’t so much crawl into bed as on top of it. The pad hesitated ((which led my husband to quip, “Foam has slow memory. Needs more RAM” in a stilted, computer-esque voice.)) and then, with an almost audible sigh, it slowly began to give under our weight and warmth. Fighting back giggles, we watched each other sink until our bodies had formed deep, steep-sided troughs from which we then fought to free ourselves each time we rolled over, reached for our bedside glasses of water, or flailed for the snooze button. In the morning we excavated ourselves with effort, as the sleep-softened foam beneath us sucked at our tired bodies and the untouched, cold foam beside and between us formed impossible, unyielding walls. Once we had escaped, a glance back at the bed showed the outlines of our sleeping positions, as crisply formed as chalk lines around a murder victim.
It has been thus for weeks now. While we are gradually growing accustomed to this new arrangement and the mild spring days make for softer nights, well, it’s still no wonder I was late to work today: My mattress tried to have me for breakfast.
I’d always wondered about those Memory Foam Mattresses–thanks for the heads up! And I’m like your husband–I slept on a futon placed on a plywood board until I was almost 50! Now, I have more comfort, but less space on a bigger bed. For some reason, my 18 lb cat and 17 lb dog expand at night and take up more room than the 2 humans in the bed.
I have to tell you – I hate these things. My brother-in-law, who already equipped all his guest rooms with those ultra-soft ‘pillow top’ mattresses, decided to FURTHER mangle our backs with the addition of one of these menaces to OUR already too-soft bed in his house. The thing will NOT let you go in the morning, nor will it let you comfortably roll at night. I feel your pain. I am sure if you cut it into 3 equal-sized pieces, the cats would LOVE it.
Oh. My. Word. I can see it. And I’m somewhat scared to go to bed now for fear of what I’ll find.
@Conda – Yeah, we read the reviews on them beforehand and none of them mentioned any of this stuff. I kind of wish they had, though we’re getting used to the mattress’s quirks. Kind of.
@Katie – Can you take the pad off before you sleep on it? Though, of course, that’s probably a huge pain. As for pillow top mattresses, that’s what we were looking at before, but the foam pads got better reviews. Now I’m wondering if we should have gone with pillow tops after all.
@Kristi – LOL! Guess I shouldn’t have posted this in the evening! I’m a little concerned myself…
“Do not buy a mattress that tries, night after night, to eat you.”
LOL! I nearly spewed my drink when I read that.
My parents got one of those air mattresses, so my dad could have his rock hard side and mom can have her soft squishy side. Unfortunately mom said that her side is a little lower when is less inflated and dad fall over onto her side 😛
LOL! Sounds like my experience on a waterbed… it literally ‘swallowed me up’… well – here’s to future good night’s sleep on your new mattress 🙂
LOL! My mattress decided it didn’t want to be firm anymore. In other words, it changed it’s mind after 2 years of service and decided it wanted to be softer. Well, I serviced it all right. I kicked it’s soft butt to the curb and said, “Be soft on someone else’s time.” It’s replacement was a brick hard dream com true. Ahhhhhh. No more waking with a sore backed that needed cracking.
@Griffin – Hilarious! I can totally picture that. Still, if not for the inconvenient height problem it *would* be nice to have an adjustable bed.
@Catherine – I don’t mind saying that waterbeds rather scare me, since I’ve had similar experiences. That’s one purchase we didn’t even consider!
@Marcia – That’s terrible! So of course it didn’t have any sort of warranty or anything. I had a pillow like that once: Used to be big and firm and rather fluffy, and then one night it turned into this wimpy, thin little pillow. I gave it to my husband, who has no pillow preferences.
How odd! I think my 4″ memory foam topper was the best thing ever! It has made my bad back happy, reduced numbness problems in my arms, and in general made me a happy camper. I’m sorry it’s not working out for you two, though. 🙁
I have a memory foam pillow and love it!
Sorry your mattress is trying to eat you though!
😀