It's only a dream

I have had a weird sleep schedule lately.

Over the last few months, Audrey has become quite the insomniac.  She stalks me all night long, until she knocks out.   Then in the middle of the night, I feel her climbing into bed with us.  Ordinarily, we wouldn't care, I mean, the boys slept in our bed forever. But, as Mr W likes to put it, you can't sleep facing her, or risk losing a vital part of your frontal anatomy.  She's fidgety in that way where she jumps and smacks you with a limb, just as you are drifting off.

The other night, I took pity on Mr W and I took her back to her room.  I was irritated.  And I lay next to her, planning on returning to our room once she fell asleep again, but I fell asleep too.  About an hour into it, I felt her scoot closer to me, and cuddle up, her arm around my neck.

I cracked an eye open, just in time to see her pucker up.  She kissed me.  In her sleep. 

I don't care what kind of glacial heart you have, there is no way you aren't going to be touched by that.  I forgot why I was ever irritated with her in the first place, as I snuggled up next to her and drifted off again.

Tonight, Mr W is working late.  Very late.  I forced myself to bed at around 10:45, which is early compared to the wee-hours-of-the-morning I've been staying up till this week.

I was having a really good dream, which suddenly took on nightmare proportions.  For me, if I am going to have a nightmare, it happens within 30 minutes of falling asleep.  I wake up groggy and disoriented, my heart pounding; I have to tell myself to take a deep breath.  Then I get up and prowl the house, checking on my kids, the dogs, the doorlocks.  I listen to everyone breathe until I settle down.   I couldn't call Mr W, he had told me he was on his way to take someone to jail when we spoke last; I'm not waking up Nolan for a pat on the head....so I did what any respectable adult woman would do.

I called my Mommy.

She's a nightowl, I knew she'd be up.  I had a cover story, but she knows me well enough to ask me what was up.  So I told her.

"I had a bad dream."

"What was it about?" 

"I...can't talk about it."

We talked about other, more mundane, safe topics, and I said goodnight.

Here I am, wondering when my daughter is gonna outgrow the need for her mommy in the night....when apparently, I haven't outgrown the need myself.

At least I didn't ask her to trek across town to make me a midnight snack.