Making The Bed

make bed

I’m a 35-year-old mother of three and I cannot change a bed.

Last week, I needed to change my bed. The husband was away. He usually does this job because I can’t. I do not know why I can’t. I don’t think I have particularly short arms. I have never noticed that my arms are short when clothes shopping nor have my possible short arms stopped me doing anything. I think my spatial awareness is fine too. I can parallel park, I just, cannot put on a duvet cover.

Do you know how long it took me to change the bed? 55 minutes. 55 long sweaty frustrating minutes.

  • Do you know how many times I got caught in the duvet cover? 5 times.
  •  Do you know how many places in which my armed ached by the end? 17.
  • Do you how many pillowcases I managed to put on back to front? Two or 50% of them.
  • Do you know what happened when I had finally finished making the bed? The sheet popped off one of the end corners.

This made me cry. For 25 minutes. My inability to change a bed alone became a symbol for all the things I manage to fail at in life. I lay on my badly half made bed and sobbed.




I cried because of the bed and because I can’t make roast dinners even though I detest roast dinners and because despite being of reasonable intelligence I cannot work out some system for my laundry and because I have turned into a person who texts their husband when is on another continent because I cant’t find the remote control. Then I cried because I am bringing up my children in a world where despite being good at lots of things I still felt like a failure because of the stupid bed. Then I thought burning some bras or something might make me feel better but realised I couldn’t burn a bra because I only have two that fit me because my boobs are so big and sore and then I cried again and then just as I was gearing up to proper hysterics  and composing a lengthy text to  the husband ( who was on the other side of the world, fortunately , for him)  about how I was drowning in a sea of mediocrity, it passed. I fixed the corner of the sheet and the bed was ok and somewhat comfortable that night.


The fact that I am approaching my 7th month of pregnancy may just may have also have been a contributory factor in this meltdown.

I fucking hate making the bed though.

13 thoughts on “Making The Bed

  1. Olivia FitzGerald says:

    Poor you. I understand the tears that come from nowhere when preggers..My husband came home from work to find me crying into the saucepan I was stirring. He thought something terrible must have happened, but all that was wrong – the damn dog would not stop barking.

  2. Ella Gleeson says:

    Do you have a railing by the stairs that you can hang the duvet over? It helps. I take the duvet cover, turn it inside out, put my arms all the way in it so my hands are holding the corners of the end with no buttons. Then grab the two corners of your duvet, bring your hands close together still holding duvet and allow the cover to fall down over the duvet with a few shakes. If you don’t have a railing, you can still do this over the end of the bed.

  3. suzy says:

    I’m quite sure you don’t want advice when it comes to your most hated activity, but I too (don’t) have short arms and have come across a life-changing solution: You turn the duvet cover inside-out, grab the corners of the duvet and just shake like a motherf*cker.

  4. tric says:

    I’m with Suzy, that is what I do too. But I don’t hold out much hope for you because at seven months pregnant everything is a chore. Bet your brilliant at incubating babies and allowing the subsequent hormones turn you into an emotional wreck.

  5. 1perriwinkle says:

    What I want to know is how you’re getting on with the wonder mop? Because in addition to my hatred of changing bedclothes, I also detest mopping the floor…. 😀
    Also, note to self – when new baby has arrived, and a few months have passed and you’re thinking your house is a bit squashed, an idle thought may cross your mind about how a mid/high sleeper bed might provide more space. You’ll be thinking about where the children can play underneath it, and you can put in a desk and all sorts of other great space saving things. I’m just warning you now, don’t be seduced by those lovely pinterest pictures or the happy families in the Ikea catalogue because if you think changing a bed that is knee height is hard, it’s nothing compared to the HELL that is trying to put a sheet on a bed that is above your arm height….

  6. Sara says:

    I feel your pain lol we have a king size duvet for a double bed and I have to get up onto the bed and half climb into the cover to get the duvet in then jump around the bed like an idiot to get it straight lol I always leave our bed last in the cleaning cause I do need a shower and a lie down after wards lol

  7. SusieChopstick says:

    First of all…HUG for you! I understand completely. I remember my husband giving me a book I’d wanted for ages in the middle of one of my pregnancies. He went upstairs for a minute and when he came down I was in a puddle of tears on the sofa because I’d read the first page and it was so sad. I had to stop reading that book, it upset me too much. And it was a kids’ book. Go figure!
    As for making the bed, if your short arms ( I have long arms by the way and have the same difficulties as you) make it impossible to change the duvet, use safety pins and a large floor space. Turn the duvet inside out, pin both corners to the corners of the duvet, and with one of the kids, bring it down over the duvet slowly. Or I came across this one from

    By the way, congratulations on your pregnancy, I didn’t know you were going again – and the very best of luck.


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