BUCKING THE SYSTEM: THE PERFECT BEDROOM SET PLEASES THE PARENTS -- AND THE KIDS

Sometimes I wonder whose bed I sleep in every night.

I thought it would be mine when Patrick and I began shopping for a bedroom set last summer. I took the lead in the selection process, deciding what type of wood and size of bed I wanted.

I fluctuated, comparing queen and king sizes, sleigh and Shaker styles, oak and maple woods. I finally selected a bed that fit my size, style and budget, and was quite proud of my choice.

On to the mattresses, I thought.

That's where the process started to break down. I wanted a high bed, the kind you have to actually think about getting into. Patrick acquiesced, but insisted on a firm mattress to help his bad back.

I agreed to his demand, even though I didn't want the bed quite as firm as the mattress he chose. Rather than sulking, I took the high road and moved on to bedroom coordinates.

I wanted to make my one shot at decorating a good one, so I pulled out my favorite mail-order catalogue and pored over its bedroom sets for some five weeks before finally settling on a navy and gold number that put a big dent in our budget but left me with a big smile on my face.

As I hung my curtains (the first set I've ever bought myself), I felt a wonderful sense of accomplishment. I loved this room and knew that I would enjoy sleeping in it every night.

That is, until my children decided they, too, liked my room. In fact, something about its ambience probably the fact that I was in it made the room and bed even better to sleep in than their own.

And so it began. For a while, they would just enjoy rolling around in my bed during the waking hours. But then the late-night visits occurred.

Jerry, the 3-year-old with a good vocabulary and better imagination, would tell me about the McDonaldland monsters that were jumping at the foot of their bed. "I need you with me," he would tell me after I'd awaken with numb feet to find him lying across them.

The solution, I decided, was to dismantle the crib and allow Patrick Jr. to sleep in the bottom bunk with Jerry. It would give Jerry a little more security, and the kids would have more room to play with their many toys, I thought.

That worked for a while, but there was one unforeseen problem: PJ's been mobile for a good six months.

To my credit, Jerry did sleep better at night. But it only lasted until he'd awaken to find PJ gone. He believed that if his brother could sleep with us, then he could sleep with us.

And so I got firm. "Everybody go to bed," I'd demand, then stand stoically by as children began to whine, moan and drag their feet, or fall out of the bed in a full-blown tantrum, depending upon their ages.

"Tam, just let them stay," my husband would husband would mumble from under the pillow he used to cover his head. They'd hear them and Jerry would stop walking and PJ would pause in his crying to look at me expectantly.

"Go to bed," I'd repeat, and march them both back across the hall.

But I'm only one woman, and even I have my breaking point. There are some nights when they just have to sleep in our bed, like when somebody's teething or can't breathe or has a nightmare or headache or bellyache or sore throat. Anybody with young children knows that something can be wrong with somebody every night.

And so we wind up cramming two big bodies and two big-for-their-age bodies into that queen-sized bed that seemed so immense when I picked it out.

Generally, I'm the one making all the adjustments, because my husband with his bad back appears to need a certain amount of space regardless of how many people are in the bed.

Of late, I've taken to sleeping on the sofa bed built into the pretty couch I bought for the living room, or in the king-sized bed that wouldn't fit in my bedroom even if I could get it back down that narrow, catty-cornered staircase to the attic. I've even slept one night in each of the twin-sized bunks in the kids' room.

So why did I spend so much time designing a bedroom that I don't even get to enjoy most nights? If my mother's right, it's in anticipation of the days when my children are grown just before they start bringing the grandkids to visit.