Well, this is awkward.

When my daughter is beyond tired she has a lot of trouble falling asleep. This isn’t news to anyone. I assume all children are this way. She deserves love and understanding. Sadly, when I hear her little voice say, “Mah-uhm! I had a bad [jeem]” I am not filled with compassion. Instead, I become so incredibly helpful and inform her that she has yet to fall asleep.

Who wants to hear that crap? I certainly would not.

Last night, I had book club. I took her with me. She didn’t watch TV. Nothing scary happened, except maybe a lot bit of inappropriate mommy talk. We were home and she was in bed by 9.15 p.m. Nevertheless, she woke up at 1.30 a.m. and didn’t fall back to sleep until 3.15 a.m., claiming the entire time that she was having nightmares.

What I am about to say may shock you, but…I am NOT nice if you wake me up. If I wake up on my own, I am one of those annoying morning people, chipper and ready to take on the day. Wake me up ten times in an hour and I honestly don’t care about your problems. This makes me a mommy I would not want to sit next to at the playground. It is not my most shining moment.

When I was a child, I would sneak into my parents’ room and sleep on the floor next to their bed. No blankets. No pillow. Hardwood floors. My mother would have no idea I was there until the next morning when she would swing her legs over the side nearly crushing me as she attempted to stand. I did this for many years.

My freshman year in college on Christmas break was a record. I slept on the floor next to my mother’s side of the bed for a week straight after watching…wait for it…Ghost. Yeah. That Ghost. Patrick Swayze. Whoopi Goldberg.

It’s those “things” that come out of the ground after Sam’s murderer is killed. And then they’re back at the end for the evil friend. Yes. It is one of the worst displays of special effects in a movie ever, but I couldn’t close my eyes for a week. I was hearing voices, seeing things move in my room. But, at a month away from 19 years old I was an unwelcome guest in my parents’ room. Even though I brought my own sleeping bag and pillow and didn’t try to squeeze in between them, my mother finally insisted I return to my room (which was right next to their room).

Don’t you think your father and I would like to be alone?

“Um, no. Then you would have let me spend the night with my friends more in high school.” *grabs blanket and pillow and stomps off to own bedroom*

So, I guess I’m trying to convince my child that there is nothing to be afraid of. I’ve told her as much in the notes from her fairy godmothers. “Dreams are just movies in your head. Once you wake up, the movie is over.”

But seriously, who am I kidding? Like my dad always said, “If we didn’t bring extra toilet paper up from the basement, Jennifer would go without.”

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