I'll admit it up front...I'm kind of a chicken. I hate being alone at night. Ever since I was a little girl, I hated being alone at night. Every creak and noise caused me to freeze in my bed, terrified of what was lurking just outside my door. I never really outgrew it.
Over the past few months I have been adjusting quite well to living without another adult in the household. I have been able to sleep at night, haven't gotten scared and pretty much have started to feel a little bit like a bad ass.
Until last night.
Last night it stormed. A lot. The daughter and I drove home late from a friend's house and it was just an eerie sort of night. Lots of thunder and lightening and creepy, patchy fog. We got home a little after ten and the house was dark. I don't mind storms, but I HATE coming home to a dark house. Hate it. The wee one hates thunder more than I hate dark houses. It reduces her to a quivering, scared little mouse. Needless to say, we both ended up in my bed. Her cowering under the covers and me trying to soothe her and play protector from the angry skies.
I must have been pretty convincing because it didn't take long for her to fall asleep. I curled up beside her with a book and waited for sleep to overtake me.
It wasn't happening.
I couldn't fall asleep. I don't know if it was the change in temperature or the moisture, but my house was creaking like an eighty year old's joints. It sounded like people were walking all over outside my door. I KNEW that it was just house noises. I KNEW this. Yet for some reason, fear and irrational thought overtook me and I found myself with the covers up to my chin, eyes wide open, almost paralyzed in fear. This went on for hours. I just couldn't turn it off and even worse, the longer I lay there, the worse the fear got. So I did what any self-respecting, bad ass girl would do.
I called my daddy.
Like a 7 year old needing someone to check under the bed and in the closet. I know, pathetic right? Don't answer....I know.
But you know what? He came and everything was fine (which logically, I knew). Was he mad that I woke him up at some insane hour? Not at all. He even insisted of sleeping on my couch the rest of the night so I could get some sleep. Now granted he lives next door, so I didn't drag him from far away, but it was 4am and I am sure that it wasn't on the top of his list of things to do.
So today I am feeling a little sleep deprived, embarassed and a whole lot less like a bad ass, but I am feeling very lucky and very loved. Even so, next time I'll just leave more lights on.