Nightmares…Beware

    "Mom. I had another nightmare. It was really scary this time."
    Ever since my oldest son was born, I have considered sleep to be a sacred time. After all, he literally cried for the first ten months. Well, not just cried. I mean fist-clenching, red-faced screaming. (His fists and face-not mine) I probably could have handled crying, but he cried and screamed all day long. When night came he slept in one-hour intervals, so when he was sleeping, I protected it the same way I've seen my dog protect her food bowl. I became a raving lunatic, and "Ssshhh" became my new favorite utterance. It didn't take long before my friends stopped calling on the phone, ringing my door bell, or knocking on the door. We even switched to paper plates because I wouldn't tolerate the clanging required to fill or empty to dishwasher. While I suppose we should have taken me to the psychiatrist, we ultimately took my son the pediatrician. Repeatedly. To no avail. After changes in routines and formula, the doctor finally narrowed it down to the infamous colic. Colic? Such a small word for huge problem. If I ever run into this Colic in a dark alley, I think I'll kick the shit out of him for mothers everywhere. But that's all in the past. At the 10-month mark, it ended as abruptly as it started and sleep descended upon our humble abode. That is, until now, 10 years later, when today's story is set.
    When I heard the nightmare announcement, I was frolicking peacefully in my own version of slumberland. I tried to assimilate it into my own dream. You know, when you're dreaming and you hear your alarm go off and suddenly that sound turns into, I don't know, church bells in your dream and you fall back to sleep. It did work on this particular night because I was startled back to reality, "Mom," he whispered again.
    "Huh? What? What's wrong?" By now, I had grown accustomed to this nocturnal routine, as these really scary nightmares happened about five times a week. I was actually impressed with how good I was getting at asking these highly intelligent questions in my sleep.
    "I had another nightmare. It was really scary." He was standing in my bedroom expectantly, the glow of the streetlamps illuminating the room just enough to cast him as a dark figure.
    After removing our new cat from my chest and his tail from my armpit, I sat up. "OK honey. What time is it?"
    "It's 12:15." He whispered. "I want to stay in here." He plopped himself down at the foot of my king size bed. (Parents, I digress for a moment. In purchasing this bed, the salesman slyly convinced me to break Parental Rule Number 32: The bed should never be bigger than necessary. This king size bed was big enough for half the people on my street. Big mistake. ) I realized that I couldn't say, 'Honey there isn't enough room.'
     So I changed my focus to buy myself some time. "What? 12:15?" Truthfully, I couldn't believe my ears. If he was right, I had just gone to bed an hour before not wanting to stay up for the news that has grown more depressing by the day. "No, honey, you have to sleep in your own room. I know you can do it. You will ground yourself, and I'll help you. Come on, I'll tuck you back in."
     I heard rattle snakes and the screech of vultures as the standoff began. The scene wouldn't have any more complete if John Wayne came sauntering through saying, 'Howdy ma'am'.  My son whispered again, "I'm not going back into that room." His emphasis on 'that' wasn't wasted on me.
     Because I sensed dirt kicking up as he made firm foot holds, I knew Sweet Mommy might not be successful tonight. I began searching through the many hats I wear to decide which one would be successful. I tried The Facilitator. "What do you mean 'that' room? What is wrong with your room? Tell me about your nightmare."
    "I don't remember," he said.
    'What do you mean you don't remember? Didn't you just have a nightmare?
    "Huh? I don't remember," he said again.
    Hey, I'm not stupid. It didn't take a brick for me to see that this wasn't going anywhere. I switched gears and tried to trick him into his room. Trick? In hindsight I think that's funny because when I'm fully awake, I'm a firm believer in what my late uncle always said: kids are born two steps ahead of their parents. Who did I think I was kidding? I tried anyway, "OK, well go back into your room and I'll meet you there."
     When I got there to tuck him in, we had a conversation about his nightmare. Sitting in the glow of his turtle nightlight, I learned about a nightmare that involved dark, damp catacombs, skeletons, and dead bodies. I had to admit, it probably was scary, but it's so hard for me to understand how nightmares can scare him. After all, this is a child that has pretty regular visits from spirits.
     He had difficulty falling asleep but finally did and woke up two more times that night, paying a visit to my room for reassurance each time. Needless to say, we were both exhausted in the morning.
     Feeling compelled to do something, and quick, I considered some of the changes that took place around the same time that his nightmares started. That's when I remembered the trip to his neurologist for an ADHD med check the previous fall.
     At that appointment, I mentioned that he was having trouble sleeping and it was getting to be a problem. Naturally, I neglected to mention that he sees the spirits of his grandfather, family pets, and close family friends. Nor did I mention that random spirits pass through our house in an attempt to make meaningful contact with this still-developing spiritual medium. I didn't mention that his spirit guides have also been trying to encourage him to communicate with them. With all of that still left unsaid, our highly regarded doctor recommended that we try melatonin as a sleep therapy. At the time, our relief was audible and we couldn't wait until bedtime.
     Little did I know that this natural hormone can cause vivid dreams and sometimes nightmares. After discovering this little nugget of gold, we began to wean him off this sleep aid. Unfortunately he is in the process of learning how to fall asleep without this natural hormone. I say learning how to fall asleep because while on the melatonin, sleep usually came within minutes, therefore he has little patience for the Sandman nowadays.
     And so, while I have informed you some and entertained you little, I must leave you here, on the edge of a cliff. Know that each evening the story continues, with or without nightmares, and definitely without melatonin.


Until the next time…Sweet dreams.


 

Protective Energies

I have a good friend who tells me frequently that sometimes I am difficult to understand because I speak with too many idioms.  Having grown up under a rock, she sometimes has trouble figuring out what they mean. It can be quite comical, as she often takes them literally. I use this to preface the continuation of our story because each day when I pick up the boys, I always ask several loaded questions. The first, “Is your homework done?”, usually needs to be asked twice in order to ferret out the truth, which often requires parental skills in managing pediatric avoidance behaviors. The second question “Did you have any visitors today?”, sounds innocent enough, but I’ve learned to ask it because their gifts are developing so rapidly that they are beginning to feel like common place and the boys often forget to tell me.  On this particular day I heard something very different than the expected reply involving sightings of auras, relatives who have passed over or my childhood pets. I didn’t realize those would only be a drop in the bucket.  And so our story continues…

Seeing that it was time to hit the books, the three of us sat down at the kitchen table. The late afternoon sun was pushing itself through the blinds and leaving streaks across the table and floor. The light was just enough to brighten the room but not enough to warm a spot in the corner for Cat to lie. I was foolishly trying to assist with homework and the boys were successfully avoiding it. My younger son suddenly jumped up and turned on my I-pod.  In moments he was gyrating to Usher’s OMG. This is when I knew with a fair amount of certainty that I had lost control. I temporarily threw in the towel and went back to the drawing board. I decided to go back to something they actually found interesting.

“Did you have any visitors today?” I asked my oldest. He beamed at me with a  smile so big it seemed like it would burst off his face for lack of room. I took that as an affirmative and grabbed the nearest Post-it pad ready to take notes.  Soon I was the one being tutored.  My son described a series of experiences with bright shining ball-shapes of light.  He said that one appeared to be sitting in the chair next to him at school, waiting for him in the boys bathroom, and even hanging out at the afterschool program.   In hindsight, the amazement on my face must of resembled the same expression on Richard Dreyfuss’ face during his first encounter in Close Encounters of the Third Kind.  I felt a combination of astonishment and respect.

 “I was in the bathroom today and while I was washing my hands, I saw a glowing light out of the corner of my eye.  It was over by the door.  It wasn’t just a ball of light. It had points on it, like it was so shiny.” he said.  “I think it was the same bright light that was sitting in the chair next to me in reading class today, too.” 

 I knew he wasn’t joshing me, so immediately the lioness in me roared into action and began barraging him with a series of questions designed to set my mind at ease.  They consisted of questions like Was it a white light?  How did it make you feel?  Did you speak to it?  Did it speak to you?  Satisfied with the responses, I let him continue.

“Then after school I saw a glowing sort of person-shaped thing.  It was sort of standing, I guess, over by the desk.  I think…I don’t know…it’s hard to explain.” 

I listened intently, trying to make sure I understood.  I had to admit that each time we had conversations like this, which was frequently now, I felt both elation and envy.  I was so honored to be a part of such a miraculous process, to be chosen to raise these children, but I was also a little envious; part of me wanted to see just a little bit of what he could see.

He continued with patience, “When I saw that, an image of Pop Pop jumped into my head, so I thought that it might be Pop Pop following me around today.  Do you think so?”

While I didn’t particularly know for sure, I did remember that earlier in the week I had a conversation with our medium friend about the physical and spiritual protection of the boys.  I wanted to be sure that with all of the things they were hearing, seeing, and generally experiencing, that they were safe.  I also spent a little time talking to my mom and my late dad about the same topic.  Then something occurred to me: Over the years, I’ve learned that each living thing vibrates at a certain frequency.  I’ve also learned that thoughts and actions also vibrate at a certain frequency.  Fundamental physics teaches us that ‘like attracts like’ and that holds true all over the Universe.  When I began focusing energy in the form of thought and conversation on their protection, is it possible I helped to bring that to them.   I don’t know if they were family spirits or angels, but I do believe they were positive, protective energies.  After all, what negative energy would care enough to follow the boy into the bathroom?  Only a loving being would do that.

Until next time…breathe deeply, and see only positive.

How it all started

     So, here we are, you and I, and of course the two boys.  We are sitting in our modest living room with all of the window shades up on a very sunny Saturday morning.  I make it a habit now to pull up the honeycomb shades and let the sun in because my dear friend and very gifted medium has informed me that the sun will help burn off negative energy in the house.  AND...I can't have any of that around here.  You should know from the start that, contrary to popular belief, I am simply a supporting character in this story...and, of course, I've also agreed to narrate.  The main characters are the boys who are currently arguing on the couch, even after promising and crossing their heart that today they would not fight.  So much for the whole telepathy thing that crystals are supposed to use to communicate.  That would certainly be helpful when they are fighting...
     About a year ago my oldest, who was ten, began to hear from spirits.  The first time he was alone on the back porch and he heard someone call his name.  The poor kid...seeing that he was alone out there, it scared the daylights out of him.  He jumped out of his seat and charged into the house.  He was huffing and puffing, obvioulsy very frightened.  Shortly after that he started seeing orbs, spiritual imprints in my cul-de-sac, and my childhood dog in my living room. Things started happening very quickly.  It was happening so much that I actually asked him to slow down, I wasn't ready for all this.  Obviously, I needed to call someone about this.  A doctor?   I spent days wondering who the heck would help us figure this out without signing my son up for psychological thereapy.  Clearly my protective parenting instincts were ablaze.  Then I remembered that I met someone only a few months before who told me I'd be calling again.  Of course, at the time I shrugged it off thinking it would be for business purposes.  I called and explained what was happening.  Naturally, he wasn't surprised.  We arranged to have him meet the boys and he has since been spending time with both boys, who are now 11 and 6, each week coaching and helping us understand their spiritual and psycic gifts.
     Currently, both boys have begun to develop their abilities.  My hope for this blog is simply to tell our story as it happens, from our own unique family perspective.  It will include what we learn, what we try, how we deal with our unique situation, and my own reflections as we travel on our journey.  Maybe it will help other families who are on the same journey. 

     Until we see one another again, breathe deeply and turn your face to the sun...