I'm in a bad mood today. It may have something to do with my little four year old suddenly developing a middle-of-the-night fear of being in her own bed. She's been camping out with us, every night-for the last month or so. I've tried putting her back in her bed, only to have her tap me on the shoulder an hour later. We figured out the problem. Our house has no insulation, and the girls' room is C-O-L-D. She's honestly freezing, which warmed my hardened heart at 2am. So as of late, you can find me, perched on the edge of our teeny tiny queen sized bed, wrestling covers and fighting over a pillow with my daughter.
Matt got so fed up one night, he headed off to Annie's bed. Lucy woke up in the middle of the night, saw the slumbering Matt and proceeded to royally freak out. I heard shrieks and then screams of "MOMMMY! THERE'S A MONSTER IN ANNIE'S BED! A MONSTER! A MONSTER!" It didn't help matters when the "monster" kept trying to tell her "It's just me, Lucy. It's just me." She had no idea who "me" was, but didn't like his hairy chest and buffalo checked pajama bottoms. (Did I already tell you this story? I'm growing old in my senile years- and am also too lazy to check. Let's just pretend we're at a cocktail party and you can nod your head sympathetically and then casually make your way to the bar for another drink... shall we?)
Even if we move to the snow, any house has to be warmer than this one. I'm convinced this rental house knows we are leaving, and is turning on us. Brand new recessed light bulbs are burning out all over the place, ceiling fans are stopping for no reason, drafts are appearing in window cracks- it's like the house is being passive aggressive.
I think I will go pop some chocolate chip walnut cookies in the oven and try and turn this around....