Hotel bed

If I look past the boot packed to the max with bags, toys, portable cots,  mini couches for the kids to sleep on, the approximately 1 million are we there yet?’s, and the cheese that’s ground into the car seats because I gave the kids sandwiches to combat those are we there yet?’s and/or screaming for 5 minutes, going on holidays is quite fun.

Especially at night time.  With the kids in bed, we can kick back, enjoy a cup of tea that we can actually hold in our hands without a curious and mad for food toddler standing precariously on his tippy-toes, relentlessly pawing at our cups whilst we attempt to keep the hot beverage free of grasping hands so they don’t get scalded.

We can get into bed at 7:30pm.  Aaron and I really like going to this 5 star hotel in Sydney when we are feeling particularly un-thrifty and want a little luxury that our slightly dodgy apartment with 30 year old brown shag carpet and tiles falling off the walls in the bathroom can’t possibly give us.

At this particular hotel, there is a menu next to the bed.  A pillow menu.  Yes, there is such a thing.  You can actually call the concierge and order the particular pillow size/firmness/filling (feather, cotton, latex) that you’d like, and they will deliver it to your room at no extra charge.

Each pillow is encased by those lovely crisp white pillow cases that match the lovely crisp white sheets that only hotels seem to be able to get their grubby mitts on.

If only my bed looked like this

Unless you’re staying in the places we usually stay.  You won’t find the nice sheets there.

Getting into bed at a 5 star hotel is nothing short of fabulous.  After I pull the sheets out from their tucked position at the side of the bed (I hate having my sheets tucked), I can wrap myself in the crisp white sheets, sink into the soft pillows, and cuddle up to Aaron, not having to worry about dishes, laundry, or cleaning.  Whilst we are in that hotel bed, life is easy.

How good would it be to have hotel sheets at home? Only new ones, not sheets from actual hotels, because we all know what goes on in hotel beds.

You can get your very own crisp, yet silky feeling white sheets from Frette’s hotel collection bedding.  Frette’s actually do supply world famous hotels with their linen.  It’d be like a holiday every night.  And who doesn’t like that, right?

*This post was sponsored by Frette.com

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Copyright 2013 Sheri Thomson

A bad nights sleep

After we checked in, unpacked Hannah’s things and set up her portable cot, there was a knock at the door.

“Hi,” the hotel worker said as she walked into our room. “Is it ok if I come in?”  As if we had a choice, she was already in there.

“I just wanted to let you know that there is a function downstairs tonight so it might be a bit loud.  I’m very sorry, I just wanted to give you the heads up.  It’s supposed to go until about 12.”  She told us.

We didn’t think too much of it, picturing some loud voices that when altogether sound more like muffled white noise.  Not too much of a concern really.  I mean, it was only a pub downstairs.

We put Hannah to bed at 7:30, retreating to The Jess and Jim’s room down the hall with the baby monitor so she could put herself to sleep.  When we got back to the room, the noise wasn’t too bad.  There was so quiet-ish music and loud-ish voices that all mingled in to one muffled jumble.  Not too bad.

I didn’t really have anything to do.  I couldn’t read a book, as Hannah’s cot was just a foot away from our bed.  I couldn’t really turn a light on.  We couldn’t watch tv for fear of waking her up.  Aaron played his D.S. and I decided to just go to sleep.  Catch up on some z’s and have a really good rest.  Sure it was only 8ish, but I was sleepy anyway.

I fell asleep just fine.  Then 9pm rolled around.  I guess the noise before was just pub noise, not party, I mean “function,” noise.  They seemed to have a DJ.  The DJ seemed to like playing obnoxiously loud dance music that all had the same ‘duff duff’ beat and vibrated through everything in our room.  The noise was deafening.  It was like trying to sleep on top of a giant speaker that was blasting torture.

Hannah somehow managed to sleep right through it.  Aaron and I tossed and turned.  We couldn’t sleep.  I was getting more and more frustrated, annoyed, sleepy, crazy from not being able to sleep, and impatient. I kept looking at the clock.  The minutes seemed to tick by as slow as hours.

Finally, it was midnight.  The lady told me the torture would finally stop at midnight.  I waited a bit.  It kept going.  I’m sorry (not really, but I’ll pretend), but it’s ridiculous to have hotel rooms above what seems to be a for hire night club in the first place, but then to go over time when they’ve only paid to be there until 12?  Not cool at all.  I fumbled in the dark to find my phone and the laminated print out of important hotel numbers and took them to the bathroom, where I could safely turn on the light without waking Hannah.

Humph, the numbers were only extensions to be called from the hotel phone.  The one next to the bed, which also happened to be right near where Hannah was sleeping.

I tried to go back to sleep, willing the music to stop.  It didn’t.

Phone next to Hannah or not, I picked it up and dialled the night supervisor’s extension.  Sure, I could have gone out the door myself and told them to shut up, but when you open the door and hold down the handle, an alarm goes off.  If you try to close the door with the handle up, it makes a loud banging noise.  So it would be an alarm or a loud bang.  Not really an option.

“Hello.”  The man said.

“Hi, I’m just wondering when the obnoxiously loud music is going to stop?”  I huffed.

“Oh, that should have stopped already, I’ll go speak to them.”

I thought the music would stop rather quickly after that.

It didn’t.

We tossed and turned some more.  Hannah woke up and started talking to her stuffed animals and playing in her cot.  “THIS rrraaabbbbiiiitttt.”  She said “BUS!”  She was having a good old time. At least we could giggle at how cute she was instead of thinking about how we were not sleeping and being subjected to horrible torturous loud music.

1:15am.  Finally, the music stopped.  Phew, I can finally sleep now. 

The people from downstairs were drunk.  And loud.  And obnoxious.  And a lot of them seemed to be staying in the hotel.  They trudged up the stairs and began congregating right outside our room, which was annoyingly next to the stairs and off the large hallway that housed the sitting area of the hotel.  They carried on and on, right outside our paper thin door.

Loud door and alarm be darned. “Excuse me, people are trying to sleep here!”  I yelled at them.  I probably should have put some clothes over my bra and underwear first.

They quieted down, but more people banged up those stairs for quite a while after that.  Hannah couldn’t get back to sleep.  She wasn’t playing anymore, she’d started crying.  At home, that’s fine, we’d just turn on the sleepy music (remotely of course), and she’d lay down and go to sleep.  But she could see us.  We were right there.

“Mommy up!”  She held out her little arms and cried, wanting me to pick her up.  I let her cry for a little bit, hoping she’d give up and lay down.

She didn’t.  I picked her up.  I didn’t want the entire hotel to be kept awake by a screaming toddler after being subjected to hours and hours of loud music followed by annoying drunk people.  I rocked and patted her.  Aaron fell asleep.  Aaron getting a good nights sleep was the only reason we were staying there in the first place.  Aaron was running a half marathon the next day.  He didn’t want to get up at ridiculous o’clock to make the starting time of 6:45am.

I held her, patted her, rocked her for an entire hour. My arm was going to fall off.  My back was in danger of permanently curving.  I laid her in bed with me and Aaron.  She crawled half on me so her little head and shoulders were laying on my side and she fell asleep.  Just like that.   It was 3:30am.  Only 2 hours until Aaron had to get up.

And to think we actually paid to sleep at that place.  Humph.

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