Beds are not meant for three people, two cats

Last week our 2-year-old son, Braden, decided he likes sleeping in our bed. It’s a decision I don’t particularly care for, since a queen-sized bed isn’t made for three people and two cats.
This problem started last Tuesday after Braden got up in the middle of the night and came to our room crying, obviously wakened by a nightmare, dry mouth or the sensor light on the garage outside his room.
Normally, he’s a very sound sleeper and if something does wake him up, he usually cries first and we’re able to put him back to sleep in his room and on his bed. But this time he got to us before we could get to him. With stealth tactics like this, maybe he’ll make an excellent undercover operative for the CIA when he gets older.
Getting to us first meant comforting him in our room and on our bed. And maybe not wanting to feel left out, after all everybody and everything – except him and a fish – sleeps in our bed, Braden was able to get his mother’s sympathy, and her vote to let him stay, with just three words: “Sleep mommy’s bed.”
A one-time occurrence wouldn’t be a big deal, but since then he’s done it three times, making me an exile in my own bed. That’s not really new, because the two cats and my wife, who likes to spread herself out over the bed, have relegated me to the bed’s edge; a small tremor, if we had them in central Wisconsin, would put me on the floor.
With Braden in the bed, my wife is forced to the other edge; her spreading wings clipped. I kind of enjoy watching her teeter on the edge, since I’ve been doing it for years. She insists that she doesn’t hog the bed, but my extraordinary ability to balance on a six-inch width from the bed’s edge is all the proof I need.
The cats, neither of which likes Braden because he’s fond of pulling tails, are not very happy. Braden has been their enemy since his arrival, taking some time we used to spend playing with them away and then keeping them on constant alert when he became old enough to move and grab. I’ve noticed Priscilla, our fat cat, checking out new sleeping locations in our house – maybe she’ll take over Braden’s bed since he’s not there anymore.
What’s most frustrating to me is that Braden seems to be going in reverse. Many kids begin post-crib life sleeping in their parents’ beds, eventually graduating to their own bed. Our son, who escaped from his crib shortly after his first birthday, started out fine in his own bed. Sleeping in our bed wasn’t an option.
But once that option became available, his bed became a lot less likable to him and our bed turned into the Taj Mahal, which is funny because my wife and I have gotten to the point where we want to replace the 10-year-old bed soon because it’s getting uncomfortable.
I shouldn’t complain about our toddler sleeping in our bed for a couple of hours. I know a couple that allowed their child to sleep with them and to this day she still does, even though the child is in school. It’s kind of sad because the child wants siblings and doesn’t realize she’s the parents’ birth control.
I’m not going to let the situation get to this point. Braden’s sympathetic cries will get old fast, and he’ll have to cry himself to sleep in his own bed soon.
Until then, our bed that needs to be replaced may have to become a king-sized one when it does. Maybe then I’ll get a foot of space on the bed’s edge.