This is my Wednesday to do list:
– mail out mini-catalogs for Cecilia’s show
– mail out mini-catalogs for Jenna’s show
– host coaching (Jennifer, Jackie, and Laura)
– 10:30 KW office with Jody
– Killer monkeys
I’m sure you’d just love to hear all about my mini-catalogs and how sending them out for my hosts is going to help them get more sales and attendance at their Cooking Shows. But I’d prefer to bore you with something much more mundane. Ah, yes. Killer Monkeys.
When we moved to our new house, one of the things we really liked about it was the split floor plan. And when I say “split” I mean really split. As in, the kiddos bedrooms are downstairs on one end of the house and our master bedroom is upstairs on the other end of the house. Sometimes I watch House Hunters on HGTV and see moms and dads shopping for a home and they are all “Oh, I want my children’s bedrooms right next to mine” or “I don’t like the idea of them being upstairs and us being downstairs.” Come on, people. You have got to think long-term! Sure, when they are babies it’s easier if they are closer so there is less opportunity for you to kill yourself running across the house when they wake up crying, etc. But once they are old enough to sleep through the night, why on earth would you want them right next door? Do you not value privacy at all? Are you eagerly anticipating the day when you’ll get a knock on the door (or just flat have someone walk in) at an “inopportune” time? You got to think long-term! Get a split floor plan! Put them waaaaay far away from you!
At any rate, I thought that this floor plan would ensure that our bed would remain kid-free on a nightly basis. I mean, at the old house, we were right across the hall and more often than not someone would wake up in the middle of the night and make their way into our bed. For the first few nights at the new house, our bed was kid-free. But then they got all brave and were perfectly happy to march through the dark corridors in the middle of the night to seek us out upstairs in the event of “I can’t sleep” or “I had a bad dream.” Killer monkeys falls into the”I had a bad dream” category.
The night before last, Mickey came into our bedroom in the middle of the night.
Mommy: “What are you doing in here, baby?”
Mickey: “I had a nightmare.”
Mommy: “Aw. Come get in bed.” (Then, of course, I had to get up and pee. Every time they wake me up in the middle of the night, I have to pee. This is what having kids will do to you.)
Mickey snuggles in, takes over half of my pillow, and I put my arm over her and ask the inevitable question.
Mommy: “Do you want to tell me about it?”
Okay, fine with me. I’ll go back to sleep. Five minutes later…
Mickey: “I’m ready to tell you now.”
Mickey: “I dreamed that you and Daddy accidentally brought home killer monkeys and the baby monkey tried to kill me.”
HOLY CRAP. Where did this come from? Have we been watching too much Curious George? Does George have a mean streak that has yet to be revealed on PBSKids?
Mommy: “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. It was just a dream. You’re safe. I love you.”
And she goes back to sleep.
I don’t care how old my kids get or how far I push them to the other side of the house. I want them to always come and tell me about their bad dreams. One day, they won’t be just down the stairs and across the house. They’ll be across town, or across the state, or across the country. God help me, they might even be across the world. Even if they are inspired by killer monkeys, I love these little moments with my babies. So, thank you killer monkeys.