My girl doesn’t want to sleep in her bedroom. She’s afraid there are bugs in there, more of the ones she’s seen in there over the past few days. I don’t blame her – I’m not a big bug fan myself – but I think I could handle these. They’re ladybugs. You know, the little red beetles with black spots on their backs. They’re supposed to be good luck. In fact, families who’ve adopted from China sometimes take on the ladybug as a symbol of China adoption itself (having something to do with the Chinese proverb about the red thread, I think). At any rate, they’re harmless, but until we figure out where and how they’re getting in her room and stop them, she’s going to refuse to sleep there. It doesn’t matter how many times we reassure her, she remains unconvinced, and although we might be able to force her to get in her bed, sleep just isn’t going to happen in there.
And this poses a problem. She has asked to sleep on the living room couch instead and to her credit, she has fallen asleep fairly quickly each time she’s slept there despite my knocking around in the kitchen, cleaning up. But it means that I can’t watch TV at night because it will keep her awake. Oh sure, I could go upstairs to the bonus room and watch TV up there but it just seems like too much trouble after a long day. So instead I sit at the kitchen table and work on my proofreading website, or I write posts like this one, or I go to bed early and read a book in the comfort of my pajamas and a cozy blanket.
At our house I think we leave the TV on for background noise much of the time. Apparently we’re not disciplined enough to turn it on, watch the show we’re interested in, then turn it off. We turn it on and peruse the guide to find something to watch instead of being purposeful about our viewing habits. I remember when I was a little girl living with my great-Grandma (that’s a book in itself right there), she had a 12-inch black and white TV on the counter and it was only turned on at certain times. We watched the 6 o’clock news most nights, and on the weekends we’d watch The Carol Burnett Show, Hee Haw, Lawrence Welk, Wild Kingdom, and The Wonderful World of Disney. Sunday mornings brought the “TV preachers”, usually Oral Roberts and Rex Humbard. That was all. No Saturday morning cartoons, no Bewitched, no I Dream of Jeannie or Brady Bunch. And I survived.
So although I missed seeing Noah Guthrie on “Dancing With the Stars” tonight, I think I can handle the silence of the tube for a little while longer, until the ladybugs have been eradicated and my girl is comfortably back in her room. It’s actually quite pleasant.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a warm bed and a book waiting for me.