Perchance to Dream
When my kids have a bad dream, they always come to me. Never dad. I know it's probably the whole mother-nurturing thing, but I think it's also partly because dad never remembers his dreams. He thinks it's weird that I remember mine, I think it's weird he doesn't. (And there you have the secret to our relationship- we're both weird.) So, he doesn't have the empathy about bad dreams. He's had them, I'm sure, but if you can't remember being chased by a little green martian (true dream from my youth) or having a bald head sticking out of a wall and biting you (also true), then you can't really understand what kind of terror will send a kid running to his mother's bedside with pleas of sleeeping in the safety of her bed. They're all getting a little big to 'climb in', so I usually make them a bed on the floor. I've warned Chip that he isn't allowed even that. At 6'4", I figure he's big enough to deal with nightmares on his own. I haven't had bad dreams for a long time, but the other night, they returned. They weren't like the ones when I was a kid. No wolves chasing me and forcing me to play hide-and-seek. (Those recurring nightmares I attribute to my aunt allowing me to watch 'Dark Shadows' as a kid.) More the 'something bad lurking around the corner' kind of dream. I woke up and it was windy and the blinds downstairs were banging the windows. I had to get up and fix that. Then, I tried to sleep again. I didn't sleep well. I woke up once with start, my heart racing, trying to focus my eyes in the dark (darkness plus really bad near-sightedness= lots of strange, creepy shapes). I don't have a mom to run to, but luckily, I don't have to sleep alone. So, I scootched over closer to my Big Hunk hoping his warmth and nearness would chase the bad dreams away. It worked. I got a little sleep. I told him about my night the next day. He was oblivious. He was busy dreaming dreams he would forget. He's so weird.