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.