haunted apartment?

I don't know if I have mentioned before that my daughter seems to be a bit psychic. She knew a month before I was pregnant. She sometimes knows who is going to call, who is coming over, and where she is going. ... So I've come to believe she's inherited a little bit of an extra sense from her dad. The latter's experiences I won't even try to put into this blog today. Too freaky.

anyway, ..so, the other night Maia comes to me, a flashlight in her hand, and tells me there is a monster in our room and how scary it looks in there. "Every dark room looks scary if you're fiddling around in it with a flash-light," I say and walk past her into the room to turn on the light.

As I reach for the light-switch of our little bedside table lamp I see something move next to me on the floor.
I almost caught a heart-attack. As I turned on the light I could see that it was Maia's teddy-bear (well, actually it used to be my older brother's) that had moved.
But really, it's hard to describe, for it happened at the same moment I reached for the light.
From my peripheral vision it looked like the teddy-bear had been dropped from a very low height.
I try to console myself with the rational thought that it had dropped from somewhere ... maybe because of vibrations I caused walking into the room?
Very lame rational explanation, especially if familiar with the room's set-up but I am clinging to it like the victim of a ship-wreck.
If I see ANYTHING of non-physical appearance in my beloved home I am moving out. Don't care how much blood,sweat, tears, and dough I've put into it.

However, grounded by this very spooky experience I brought myself to say out loud, "there are no monsters, honey..... ghosts maybe...but no monsters." As if that was going to make it ok.

Later on, as I was laying in bed with Maia (finishing her bed-time story) I investigated a bit more (since I was still a bit freaked out).
I asked, "so what does the monster do to you, Maia?"
"It pushes me into the stomach" she replied promptly.
"When does this happen?" I asked.
"At night, when I want to come to your bed."
"So,...you tell that monster to get away and to stop it, ok?"
"ok." she sighed.
A little while later, as she drifted off to sleep she mumbled: "Mami, ... the monster is not listening. It's not going away."

Kids really have a quite vivid imagination. ... But she's not even three, yet. I thought this starts later on. ... The whole imaginary friend... or in this case foe kinda thing.