Of course, we all know not to let our kids watch scary things before bed; common sense takes care of that one.
But those darn nightmares seem to always pop up at the wrong time.
Those nights when your kids blessedly went to sleep early and with no problems, and you took the opportunity to grab the comfy seat on the couch you never seem to get, and pour a glass of wine, and snuggle in for a long, uninterrupted watching of The Good Wife. And then you are so comfortable and relaxed you stay up even later watching useless TV, feeling as if you deserve the break and the “me” time you never seem to get.
Then the cry comes at 2:00 am and you are up. This was my night last night.
“What was the nightmare about?” I ask my little girl who loses all that important control and motor planning when she is asleep. She thrashes in her blanket, trying to wipe away the scary thoughts from her head. She fell asleep in my bed, so at least she is close. But she is not consolable. She wants a new pillow, a different place to sleep, me to be as close as possible. Then she asks me to talk. To tell her things to get the scary thoughts out of her head.
I list out our plan for the next day, her work in progress Christmas list, what I was dreaming about, anything I can pull from my foggy head, which is not much, and not enough.
I should have listened to my instincts and gone to bed early. My day is now defined not by all that I can get done, but by how tired I am and spacey. You can never prepare, and you want to be there for your kids. But oh my could it just be a tad more convenient just once.