Two Years Two Months

Two years and two months.

My little lady.

I've been lucky blessed to be able to spend my days watching you grow.

I've rarely been far from your side since you came into my life.

I used to believe it was because you needed me, but maybe the opposite is true.

The time has come to register you for nursery.

So now you are preparing to spread your wings and broaden your horizons. Even if just a little bit.

We visited the other day, and as you ran and explored you barely gave a backward glance.

My heart aches for you. Knowing that I have to let you leave this nest. To fly free.

You've always been an independent little lady. Even as a baby. You never wanted to lie down, to chill, or snooze or snuggle.

You wanted had to sit up and absorb it all. Interact. Get stuck right in.

You always wanted to do everything yourself. To assert your independence. You never gave up trying. Not until you achieved your goal.

I love that about you. Yet it pains me.

So young to be so grown up.

So little to be so independent.

I've rarely been far from your side since you came into my life.

My little lady.

Two years and two months.

The haunted baby monitor...

It would appear that it is time to call in the GHOSTBUSTERS to investigate in my house...or is it?

BOO!

I've always had an over active imagination. I'm prone to flights of fancy.  If I'm in the kitchen at night and the lights are on I can't get over the feeling that someone might be out there in the darkness outside my window, peering in unseen with evil intent.  So much so that I won't look out of the window once I've flicked the light switch to off, for fear I actually discover I am in fact correct.  I'm a walking contradiction though.  Despite this and many other irrational fears about lurking maniacs and ghostly faces in darkened mirrors I'd love to go and explore so called haunted houses and I've yet to see a horror film that I haven't laughed at.  Perhaps that is the problem, maybe my imagination is better than a horror script...

I'm getting off track though.  I'm here to talk about the baby monitor.  Holly has only just gone into her own room (under protest from me - but that is another story), so we have only just started using her baby monitor and the damn thing is scaring the bejeebus out of me.  For some reason, since the very first time we turned it on, somewhere in the back of my mind is the thought that I might hear something unexpected and sinister through it.  Every noise that comes through it, apart from the Holly noises, has me convinced there is something or someone  moving about in her room.  Now, I'm a logical person, I know the rustling noise is just Holly turning over in the cot, but it sounds creepy when amplified through this electrical appliance.  Or the times when the sound of her dreaming noises are distorted by interference and it sounds like a creepy demon growling.  It is far from reassuring.  Then again, there was the time, in the dead of the night that the monitor kept picking up weird noises even though her room was silent.  It turns out it was just interference and I needed to change the channel.  With all these things I know there is a logical explanation, but sometimes when her monitor goes off I hate it.  I get a fear in the pit of my stomach that the noises I'm about to hear will be unearthly and sinister.  Perhaps I'm just subconsciously looking for excuses to bring her back into our room?

What do you think of baby monitors?  Is yours driving you slowly insane like me? 

Holly's slightly unhinged and irrational mother.

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