Yesterday was mom's 78th birthday. To help her celebrate, I cooked her favorite dinner -- roast beef with gravy, mashed potatoes, broccoli, glazed carrots, and biscuits. I even made a way-cool crockpot cake (yes... CAKE!) called the Triple Chocolate Surprise (much to my son's delight... it's his FAVORITE dessert that I make!).
After dinner, my husband and I cleared away the dishes, and he helped me unmold the still warm cake from the crockpot, and I put candles on it (no... not 78... the poor woman has COPD, after all, and blowing out that many might cause her to keel over!), and we all sung "Happy Birthday" as I laid the cake out in front of her.
After dessert my two girls plied her with presents (it took a lot of restraint for my little one to keep from opening them herself, but she managed somehow). It was actually a nice evening.
She hung out with us upstairs for a bit afterward, before heading back down to her house. After which, my husband and I cleaned up the mess, and got the two girls ready for bed. My two oldest went upstairs to their respective rooms, and husband and I put our littlest little in her bed.
Since the movies I'd rented on Friday were only three-day rentals, they were all due back yesterday. But, my husband and I really wanted to see "Vantage Point", so I decided it was worth the $1.50 late fee to hang onto it for one extra day. After the house was clean and everyone was nestled all snug in their beds, we both went into our bedroom to watch the movie. (It was really good, by the way... I highly recommend it.)
About five minutes before the movie ended, I heard my little one throw her door open through the baby monitor. Then I heard her practically screaming in fear, as she was struggling to open the door to our bedroom (which is right across the hallway from hers). My husband popped up when he heard her, and as he was coming around to the foot of our bed, she burst through our door, and went running as fast as her little legs could carry her into his arms. I was right there next to her then, and when she reached for me, I could feel her whole body shaking.
As I was wiping away her tears and trying to get her to calm down, I asked her what happened. She finally told me she'd had a horrifying dream -- something to do with a dead fish in a fishbowl, and a big crab ("bigger than brother", she explained) who was chasing after her and trying to pinch her. Oh, and this crab also ate one of the kitties she was playing with. When she said this, I went back into her room and got her little toy kitties and their house (a new toy she got while we were out shopping over the weekend), and showed them to her. "See?" I said, "Here are your kitties... all safe and sound in their house where we put them." "No, Mama," she replied, "the crab ate a REAL kitty." I think if I dreamed that, I'd be freaking out, too!
Now, my husband and I are not small people, by any stretch of the imagination. We have a Queen-sized bed, that we both fit on just so. When you add even a little body like hers into the equation, it throws the whole flow off, and makes one of us VERY uncomfortable. Last night that person would be me. She insisted on staying in our bed, and wouldn't budge when I tried to get her to scootch over even the tiniest. She was perfectly content to snuggle in between the two of us and watch The Food Network with us... and was completely careless to the fact that my nether region was practically hanging off the side of the bed!
I tried, in vain, to convince her to go back into her room and go back to bed. She would have none of it, even after she'd asked me to go do a thorough search of her room to make sure there were NO CRABS. Nope... the coast was clear. Even when I tried to explain to her that crabs lived in the ocean, and only ate things that grew and lived in the ocean too.... she stayed put. Even though I tried explaining to her that everyone had bad dreams, and that the thing to remember is that NONE of them are real... nothing doing. Even when I tried to find "The Deadliest Catch" on the Discovery Channel, so she could see Alaskan King Crab fishermen in action, and watch them handle the crab and not get pinched at all... no way... she was stuck like glue to my side of the bed.
Finally, I gave in completely (something I hope I don't regret doing tonight)... I went into her room, removed her mattress from her toddler bed, and put it, and all of her blankets and her pillow, on the floor next to my side of the bed. After some cajoling, she relented and climbed down onto her mattress. After even more cajoling (and some stern talking), she FINALLY went to sleep. In the meantime... my husband was snoring soundly through all of this! (Gotta love that, right?).
So... what time did *I* finally get to sleep. Oh... somewhere along the lines of 2:00 to 2:30 a.m.! I'm a whooped Mama today!
The good news is, while they were having their lunch together, I'm pretty sure my oldest daughter and I convinced my little one that we both found and killed the crab while she was at her playgroup. I only hope it works tonight!