Posted by: alainnneart | August 12, 2009

Sleep, don’t weep, my sweet…love.

SC.

He used to love going to bed.  He has a bunk bed he would jump on several times and then settle down, say prayers (“OH GOD! THANK YOU!”), and snuggle his rabbit to sleep.

No more.  Recently, it has become a challenge for him to go to sleep.  He needs the light on.  Not the nightlight, but the LIGHT.  He begs me not to leave the room.  I sit quietly on the floor, letting him hold onto my ponytail for comfort, until he passes out.  I sneak out of the room and go to my office to finish charts or notes from work, followed by a quick shower and then bed for me.

But everytime I open the bathroom door, I quietly whisper my own secret prayer.  Sometimes it’s answered.  Other times, I find wound tightly in my patchwork quilt, SC.  He dozes with a look of concern on his face, drool spilling onto my pillow.  I know that he will enevitably awaken with a nightmare, so i let him sleep in my bed.  It’s the steady breathing out and in that lulls me into a restless night of dreamless sleep.

And sure enough, as dawn approaches, he cries out.  It’s another nightmare.  I lull him back to sleep, whispering softly that everything is all right.  The monsters are not real.  and then I ponder, why the sudden change?  It doesn’t take my long to put two and two together.   All his fears started when Daddy dear waltzed back into his life.

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Responses

  1. Aw, that breaks my heart. Poor kid. That, combined with a growing imagination, can make for some scary nights!


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