Maybe I'm not lazy. Maybe the kids just aren't funny anymore.

Update: Even a year later, the kids are still crazy.  No need to change the name of this blog.  Unless you want to get technical and point out that they aren't babies anymore.  Which, come on.  Nobody likes a nit-picker.  (By the way, have you ever thought about that term at all?  Nit-picking?  OF COURSE nobody would like a nit-picker.  Gross!)  And I'm going to just say that they were crazy when they were babies and call it good.

Anyhow.

We moved Lilly to a toddler bed about a month ago.  And then to a toddler bed mattress on the floor because we decided to class up the joint.  Or else we did it because she is Ridiculous with a capital R.  Seriously, whatever she's been going through for the past few months (we're hoping it is called "Being Two" and not "Becoming Lilly") is no fun at all.

Night time is a nightmare.  She gets all hysterical about being left alone, the door being closed, the light being off, and all kinds of other stuff.  Recently, when she was trying to convince me not to leave, she looked up at me with her big brown eyes and said she was scared.

"Scared of what, Lilly?"

"I scared of the OWL."

"Lilly, owls are nothing to be scared of.  They can't hurt you.  Unless you are a field mouse, in which case watch the heck out." (I didn't actually say that last part.  I've learned though experience that kids don't find me funny.)

"Oh."  She paused.  "I scared of a MONSTER!"

"There's no such thing as monsters, babe.  Don't worry about them.  I've checked your whole room and no monsters."

She got all shifty-eyed, thinking of her next move, and then she clasped her hands together, as if in prayer and said, with a tremor in her voice:

"There is a BAT in my room."

"OH MY GOD Seriously?!  You have bats in your room?!  When?!  That's TERRIFYING, man."