They feel like both a cloud and a tub of whipped cream.

By Tara Gonzalez
Updated May 14, 2020 @ 6:00 pm
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My mom likes to call me at 3 a.m. That would probably alarm most people, but we frequently speak most between the hours of midnight and four in the morning. At bars on the weekend, when bars on the weekend were a thing, you could most likely find me sipping on a drink in a corner, talking over my friends, saying: “Hey Mom.”

My whole life, my mom has worked the night shift in the emergency room of a big Manhattan hospital as a nurse. In college this was great because she was always around to take my early morning calls after pulling an all-nighter at the library or answer my dramatic late-night texts about something a friend did or didn’t do. A couple months ago, I met some of her co-worker friends for the first time ever and they did a perfect impression of my mom talking to me: “Tara! Para de llorar! Stop crying! It’ll be fine!” We all laughed about my melodramatic crying and my mom’s stern insistence that I stop crying. I am a pisces. She is not.

At my college graduation my mom joked that she would be happy to have some more peace and quiet during her never peaceful or quiet shifts. Unfortunately, five years later and I’m back to my old tricks. Crying on the phone at some god forsaken hour. Sending a string of nonsense texts as soon as the clock strikes midnight. But this time it isn’t about some midterm or a party. It’s about the pandemic and these headlines about the lack of masks and my whole family who live in the same house with my mom and the fact that we all live twenty minutes apart but I haven’t seen any of them in weeks.

My mom likes to call me at 3 a.m. That would probably alarm most people but these days I am wide awake, laying in bed, thinking of her and of everything. My anxiety has gotten so bad, my baby pug puppy who sleeps nuzzled into my elbow cannot even calm me down. My mom calls to tell me how she’s doing. “Tara! Para de llorar! Stop crying! It’ll be fine!” The irony of her calming me down while she is on the frontlines in the epicenter of a global pandemic as I lay in the comfort of my own home is not lost on me. I’m also losing sleep over the guilt, on top of everything else.

So a couple weeks ago, I decided to try to do something about it. I rearranged a couple of things in my room in an attempt to feng shui the place. I hung some plants above my window next to my bed so I wasn’t just staring up at the ceiling all night. I told my puppy to never change, she was perfect just the way she was. And I ordered some cooling eucalyptus bed sheets from Buffy along with its new breeze comforter, which the brand swears feels like sinking into a tub of whipped cream. It sounded way better than eating a bowl of whipped cream while panicked in bed, and so I had to give it a try. I also ordered the sheets and duvet cover in pale pink because I am a millennial and anything pink seems to soothe my soul inexplicably.

The first few nights I was hesitant, but then about four days into sleeping on them my mom called me from her break at 3 a.m. And I didn’t pick up. At first, she was actually worried until I called her the next morning, awake at 8 a.m. after a full eight hours of sleep. It’s not that the sheets make me forget about everything. I still panic spiral when I get into bed every night and I don’t see that stopping any time soon. But they do make me feel as though I am engulfed in a cool, whipped cream cloud.

The fact that the sheets are made from eucalyptus makes them breathable and cool to the touch. Instead of feeling trapped in my bed and my nightmare spirals, I feel lulled into sleep. And maybe this is just me, but the coolness of the sheets, along with a cracked bedroom window, reminds me of lying in the park outdoors with a subtle breeze. And that in turn reminds me that the world is still happening out there, and that we’ll get back to that place eventually where it feels safe.

My mom has mostly stopped calling me during her break, and instead has opted for a more civilized chat at midnight, right as I’m about to slip into my tub of whipped cream sheets. My mom still likes to call me at 3 a.m. Old habits die hard. That I know. But these days, I am fast asleep.

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Buffy Cloud Pillow Set

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