Also known as: our constant struggle for control of the thermostat.
Last year, Ryan was gone most of the winter traveling. This year, he is home with me (YAY). While this is wonderful, is has become very difficult to set a reasonable temperature on the thermostat. The days of Kim turning it up to 80 degrees are gone.
Instead, the husband has taken control of the temperature in the house. His heating philosophy is derived from his parents. I just found out that his parents set their thermostat to something like 56 degrees at night. So while I adore my second set of parents, I am not willing to lose toes to frostbite. =)
So, we had it set somewhere in the low 60s at night. But, our room is definitely the coldest room in the house. When I complained, Ryan tried to teach me to “cacoon” – something he apparantly learned from living during the Arctic Freeze. It consists of taking the blanket and rolling up into a burrito.
It didn’t work. I was still waking up shivering.
It was getting so cold that even Ryan admitted it was unbearable. So, it went up a few degrees (after several sleepless nights).
Last night was the first night that I was comfortable. I was wearing flannel pajamas, long underwear and rolled up in three blankets. Yeah… three blankets.
Ryan had one blanket and a t-shirt and shorts.
How can we be so different?