Why is it that when you tell children to go to bed, they suddenly determine that their room is scary? I mean, they play in there ALL DAY and everything is fine. I have even had children magically disappear into their rooms when there are chores needing to be done in other areas of the house. Clearly these are places of refuge...so after having such familiarity with them in the daytime, why do they become menacing dungeons of despair when the sun goes down?
And another thing--why do they only want to sit and snuggle with you when you are "off duty?" We tell our children regularly, "We love you very much, but this is our time now, and you need to NOT get out of bed again." I even try to snuggle when I tuck them in, but they aren't interested in me then. It's only 20 minutes later that they suddenly have something imperative to discuss. I have tried budgeting that 20 minutes into the bedtime routine, too, so that I am not impatient and short with them, because, hello? who DOESN'T want their kids to want to talk with them, but they sensed my intention and foiled me again. DOH!
I swear Little Girl should've been a twin. She HATES to be alone--she always needs someone to be with her. I think she has an overactive imagination, truthfully, and just imagines the menace lurking around every corner. I get impatient, and then I realize that hey, I get scared too. I imagine crazy boogermen like home invaders and endless laundry (wait, that is real), not to mention that hulking figure, Failure. Oooh! He gives me the creeps! He pops up all the time with his cronies Inferiority Complex and Perfectionism. They have sharp, cruel fangs and green skin that hangs like moss on trees. Ew. So, perhaps I will just go and spend the extra time with Little Girl, and introduce her to my friends Happy Thoughts and Optimism. And someday, when she's ready, we may even make the acquaintance of Tranquility. It's a goal.