This October 1st morning brought cold, damp weather which left me feeling a bit panicky to get the last of the garden bounty out of the ground and into my home. We were blessed with some peeks of sunny rays before lunchtime, so I put the kids to work picking hot peppers, pulling up carrots and beets, and scrounging for the last tomatoes.
During the lunch hour it began to rain as the temperature continued to drop, so shortly we finished dining, I declared October 1st as "Winter Bed Day."
For all your warm-climate folks, this is the day we say So Long! to our beds' summer jammies and Hello Old Friends! to our warm flannel bedding and heavy quilts.
What is it about October 1st that puts the "Let's batten down the hatches!" bug in my brain? Is it the date? The cooling temps? I think it must be fairly innate, as I sense what needs to be done and run the winterizing show here at the house. Not that the Mister doesn't work hard at it, he just doesn't really know what winterizing needs to be done and at what time of fall to do it.
But I'm not slamming him. If we were in Guam, I would be completely clueless as to how to prepare for something like, let's say a scary monsoon. First word of an impending monsoon, and I would be all, "now what?" But there would be the Mister, tying down all that needs tying, battening all that needs battening, doing what needs to be done, because that's what is in his blood. Oooo. Just thinking of him on a tropical island, all brave and in control in the face of the horrible monsoon, kind of makes me feel all melty inside.
I get winter; he gets the tropics. That's the beauty of a bi-cultural marriage.
But guess what?
So once I bravely declared it to be "Winter Bed Day," the children formed a Follow the Leader Train up the stairs.
"Mom's the caboose!!" they declared.
Instantly I felt self-conscious of my big Polish dupa. Were they making fun of it?
"Why am I the caboose?" I asked.
"Because you have the red shirt on!" they shouted in unison.
Well, okay then.
The kids had more fun making their beds. I thought there was about to be a little bit of Winter Bed Day Tyranny when Hatfield declared the Winnie the Pooh flannel sheets as hers. Paloma instantly balked. I held up the flannel sheets adorned with snowmen and strands of holiday lights.
"Paloma, how about these CHRISTMAS sheets!" I said with a great amount of enthusiasm.
"Yahoo!" was the response.
It's always a good day when it's Winter Bed Day and you deftly avert a crisis.
Paloma was not thrilled when I suggested she actually help put on the Christmas sheets.
Then she got into the action. After a few trial-and-errors
she got the hang of it!
Hattie was sad to see her adorable pink-and-brown polka dot summer sheets be sent off to hibernation.
She and Paloma took a time out for a few last giggles with the polka dots before they were shipped off to launder.
Atticus was his chipper self and didn't even complain about the fact that there are THREE beds in his room, but just ONE of him. Had I been 6, I totally would have whined. Instead, my cool little dude flashed me the "peace mom, I'm cool with this" sign.
His sheet snapping skills have come a looong way since last year.
So there you have it. It's now 9 pm, and all of our children are nestled all snug and warm in their Winter Beds.
As for the Mister and I, our bed is sheet-less and covered with a mountain folded laundry looking for a home.