creepy things and kings.

So I get a call on Tuesday from our apartment manager. "We have a small problem," she tells me. That's what you like to hear from your apartment manager. Turns out our neighbors have bedbugs, and the bug guy had to come check our mattresses to see if we had them too. Oh, my gosh, I almost died. I didn't really know bedbugs were a real thing. But I guess they are brown little bugs that get into your mattress and bite you when you're asleep (hence the expression, Don't let the bedbugs bite. who knew?). The bug guy came and checked us out and said we looked good, but they would have to treat our apartment when they treat our neighbors because bedbugs have a tendency to flee. When he said the word flee, he wiggled his fingers like little bugs scattering. I shuddered. Carly and I will have to leave for 5-6 hours. Where the heck are we going to go for 5-6 hours? Blah. And my other question is, why haven't I heard when they are doing this? Shouldn't this be a pretty immediate concern? All I can think about is fleeing bedbugs.

A few hours after that phone call, I was feeding Carly lunch and saw something outside our back door. A giant disgusting possum. I don't know how many of you have seen a live possum, but they are just about the sickest creature on earth. I screamed when I saw it and Carly said nervously "Mama? Mama?". Haha. Poor girl. But I was creeped out all day. What kind of place do we live in, with bedbugs and possums running rampant?

[what happens when daddy is in charge of getting Carly ready in the morning]

We went to the park with friends yesterday, and Camilla gave Carly an underdog in the baby swing. Carly thought it was the greatest, and was laughing wildly. I was telling Chris about it and he said "Camilla did what?" An underdog. "What's that?". For reals, my husband did not know what an underdog was. I had to explain it to him, complete with re-enactments.

Carly has early-onset terrible twos I'm pretty sure. She is on this streak where she enjoys high-pitch screaming "no! no! no! no!" anytime I ask her to do something or try to touch her against her will or try to get her to do anything ever that she does not initiate. If you've been to my local Target lately, chances are you've seen me dragging her screaming and thrashing little self out to the car, and then pinning her down in order to buckle her in. The only time either of us find true peace is at the p-a-r-k. The child is in her element outside. Now we just need it to get over 40 degrees and/or stop raining.

[ready to ship her off to Idaho]

To be fair, Carly has also been doing a million billion cute things lately. She is so smart and growing so fast. I'll tell you all about it soon.

In light of my frazzled state, my wonderful husband called on his way home on Wednesday and said "I think you should go to The King's Speech tonight." I went. It was me, my guilty-pleasure pop, a bag of Snickers, and two couples in their 60's. It may sound lame, but there are few things more relaxing than going to a movie all by yourself. On a weeknight. I highly recommend it.

Happy weekend.
xoxo.