Seven years on, this $3.99 investment has really paid off.

Seen here on the inside of a closet door.

So that the monsters can’t escape into the bedroom at night.

It started sometime around Christmas, I’m not sure exactly.

The Wictor started waking up in the night again. Probably a stage.

At first, I would take him back to bed. And then, one night as he crawled in with me, I was too tired to do anything about it. Doing nothing became easy. I would wake up briefly to him getting under the covers and cuddling up, and that was that.

As it became a habit, I started not even noticing any more. I started sleeping through.

Most mornings now I wake up to find him stretched out, snoring, beside me.

And I have no recollection of how he got there.

But that is not the problem. The problem is this:

This morning I woke up to find there were four of us in the bed.

When Baby Sister woke up, I asked her:

“Baby Sister, how did you end up in my bed last night? ”

Her eyes gleamed. She was still in awe at her lucky break. And she replied:

“Mommy, I woke up in the middle of the night and came down to give you a kiss. Then you leaned over and pulled me in!”.

We forget almost every year, but this year we remembered.

We will be celebrating with a family trip to buy SEAFOOD.

Had to shout, because, you know, LARGE QUANTITIES OF SEAFOOD.

Washed down with pink bubbles.

Shut Up!

I happen to LIKE pink bubbles.

Any excuse for a party.

Especially on anniversaries which come but once every few years.

I saw a photo of myself the other day and the last time I had seen myself looking so puffy in the face was when I was 9 1/2 months pregnant. It was no surprise - The Daddy and I have been pointing and laughing at each other for months now, usually as we meet on the way to the kitchen for another cookie or bowl of ice cream. We know all about da fat. And it’s not really an issue.

Except when it is, like the threat of having to buy whole new wardrobes when the ones we have are not even halfway to being worn out.

The Daddy, trying to be helpful, found a diet for me in a French magazine which promised to have me looking like a young Kate Moss, in just 30 days! It involved, well, mostly not eating. I could probably fast for a month and it would be easier than following all the complicated routines laid out in the magazine article, like spinach and broccoli are OK for lunch but no green beans or tomatoes.

In any case, I have never been able to diet. My metabolism just doesn’t allow it. Plus my children do not enjoy being shouted at and the The Daddy hates the crying fits. (And that’s just when I miss my afternoon snack). So right now I am following a modified eating plan involving lots of protein throughout the day and just a little bit in the evening. I have had to reduce the sugar and carbs for this one, people and OMG this is difficult.

(Sugar in tea doesn’t really count. Honestly it doesn’t. Once it has dissolved it is not sugar any more, right? It becomes part of the tea! And yes, I am suddenly drinking a lot of tea, so what? Did you notice the weather is cold???)

After only two days I am starting to wonder if it is really worth it. It’s slightly less painful than planned exercise though. Exercise is The Daddy’s weight control method of choice, which is why he has decided to stay fat until it gets warm enough to start running again. Don’t laugh - he will run every day for a week during spring, after which he will have lost about 20lbs, following which he will run for an extra week to get a six pack.

It’s just not funny, having to live with him. It’s enough to drive me to cookies.

In my experience, it’s hard to differentiate between temperatures below freezing.

They should give up counting at that point and just call it miserable.

Of course, my experience of freezing is in past. Or was in the past, until this week.

I have been updated.

(Oh! Don’t freak out, North American friends! These temperatures are in Celcius… Our low was -7 degrees C which is just under 20 degrees F)

Last night my friend in Seattle told me I should detach all the hoses from the outdoor faucets or something drastic would happen to our pipes, but by the time I got out to do that the hose was frozen to the faucet. The Daddy told me to get back out there with some warm water, but wouldn’t do it himself. Oh, how I laughed at the futility of his request. And if a pipe bursts as a result, it will be his fault for refusing to complete a manly chore. There are times when all feminism needs to go out the window, and one of those times is when I am freezing my butt off.

So. I know some of you up North and abouts are reading this and then looking outside to the driving snow and laughing a bitter, hollow laugh.

I understand, I really do.

But it is all relative.

Exhibit 1: Furry Boots.

Have been in storage for the last 5 years, since we came to this hot and sweaty state. I pulled them out in the hopes of keeping my tootsies warm, only to remember that they can only be worn with mini skirts or skinny jeans. Hmm. Skinny jeans and mini skirts, I remember you fondly from another life. A life to which I can now only aspire  ;-)

Exhibit 2: Protesting Tropical Plants:

One thing I did manage to do was cover some of our many tropical outdoor plants with plastic so they wouldn’t get frostbite. But I had my Mom brain in at the time, and only looked after the children. All my teeny tiny little cheap-to-replace plants have been protected, thank you very much. Why did I think the more expensive mature plants would be able to protect themselves? Maybe find themselves a warm nook to crawl into?

(Yes, this is a very bad long distance shot. Due to my reluctance to step more than one foot out of my semi-warm house).

Exhibit 3: There is no exhibit 3. I just want you to know that I get very very cold very very easily. And now I am off to wrap myself up  in a blanket and sulk.

My new years resolution: I will no longer let the king size duvet cover beat me.

But if the king size duvet cover should win, I will not let it make me cry.

If by chance I do cry, I will not let my children see.

Because I know, that if they grow up believing that they can insert a king size duvet into a king size duvet cover then they will totally be able to do it.

And then I can get them onto bed changing duty.

******************************

And now for something completely different:

Here are a few of the things my children have made recently. The kind of triumphs which give me hope and confidence and prevent the whole duvet cover thing from keeping me awake at night:

A Pile of Leaves.

And then a Mess of Leaves.

Yet Another Gingerbread House.

(apologies for the poor quality photo. It was dark that day)

A Ugaglaon Wood (Congratulations Award) - try it with a Texan drawl and it starts to make a little more sense.

But only a little bit.

An Alphabet Crown. Yet another Very Useful Product from T-Bot Industries.

Inspired by Hero of the Rails, this is Niro of the Rails. Constructed of cardboard and what looks like a whole roll of clear parcel tape. Sigh. This is how my children keep me poor.

Oh, and here are some of the projects I didn’t show you. Be thankful. Be very thankful:

Happily, Baby Sister and The Wictor started back at school yesterday, so I will no longer have to virtually live at the office supply store. Although being at school does not prevent Baby Sister from using paper, and I still have to find places to proudly display all she brings home. I presume her liberal and enthusiastic use of A3 sized sheets is the reason behind the local elementary’s renewed fundraising efforts. So, indirectly - I am still paying.

The Wictor is also no longer tracking bucket loads of dead leaves into the house, but only because the trees are bare. Not that we would want to be out there anyhow, given that we have arctic winds and the promise of 4 consecutive nights of frosts. My team of furnaces is having trouble keeping up, although they make a valiant effort. And suck all the moisture out of the air in the process. I wonder if a cicada feels like this just before he sheds his hard dry shell. I am jealous. I want a new skin.

But otherwise fine. You may get more sense out of me when my friend the Sun makes his return.

Happy New Year!