The Clown vs The Balls

Growing up, my mom had a clown picture in my room. Above my bed. (That should creep you out by itself.) When I was finally old enough to express myself, first order of business was to tell her that I was terrified of the clown picture, hated clowns, and needed it removed from the premises asap. This series of events has led to a lifetime of guilt for my mom (and tons of laughter from the rest of the fam).

Until I had Fisher.

I poured myself into the decor of his nursery. Every detail thought out in full crazy pregnancy mentality. Then, I had our wonderful photographer, Jenna Reichert, come in to document. Our home was officially ready to welcome our new bestie.

A couple of months ago, Fisher transitioned from his crib-turned-toddler-bed to a full size big boy bed.

Kid was in love. Just so proud of himself! But as things settled, he started telling us he was scared to go to bed, and every night we would find him completely under the covers (head and all - with head at the footboard - which leads my hubs to freak out) sound asleep.

The other night as Tanner was tucking Fisher in, they started talking about why he was so afraid. In a spill of emotions, he told Tanner it was "those balls" - complete with a (creepy) back story of how little men might live in there and they scare him and might come to the window. (Where I ask does this come from? Mickey? Dora? PETER PAN.)

(Crazy that I can NOT find a picture of the balls. Sign of things to come? I need a reminder for when Fisher is acting up... "Hey. Watch your mouth or I will bring the balls back.")

(And FYI.. They were totally cute. They were those paper lantern things. His rocker was in the corner by the bookshelves, and I had them hung over it. Three of them. Two green and one smaller white. Perfectly different heights and all.)

That was all Tanner needed to jump on top of the toddler table and yank them out of the ceiling. (Something I have a feeling he has wanted to do since I made him put them up there...) Fisher checked to make sure they were gone and in the trash. (I am overly sentimental so they are in the closet. But he doesn't know that. Obvi.)

That was two nights ago. And Fisher has slept soundly since, with no "I'm scared" complaints.

I have become my mother.