Caroline had a bad dream the other night and woke up calling for me. I went into her room to rock her until she settled down. As I was rocking her I thought how amazing it is that my presence can calm all her fears. She immediately felt safe and protected. The irony is that I am a girl who slept in my mom’s room for two weeks before I left for college because I saw Pet Semetary. No one would accuse me of being brave. To this day if scary movie previews come on, P. will say “Don’t look, don’t look” because he knows that whatever I see will be permanently imbedded in my brain and cause a bout of insomnia.
My childhood nighttime adventures are legendary so she comes by it honestly. I am famous for yelling “But Mama, I can’t see” to which my mother would reply “You’re not supposed to see…it’s nighttime go to sleep”.
A few months ago she was waking up all hours of the night and one night I finally said “Caroline, this is ridiculous, I’m not coming in here again.” In my defense I was very tired and sleep deprived after 2 weeks of mediocre sleep and I am a girl who loves my sleep. She went to school the next day and told her teacher “mama says IT’S DICULOUS and she’s never coming in my room again.” Nice. That right there will win me some major parenting awards.