Daddy's Fish BowlA Clear View Of A Father's Family Experiences

What is it with the fascination between children and their parent’s beds?  I don’t know what it is, but there’s something that entices a child to want to sleep in the big bed with Mommy & Daddy.  I’ve been there, and have made some pretty outlandish excuses to make my way into my parent’s bed in the past.  But now being on the other end of the table, I’d just like the game to end.

I think it may just be a phase that most kids go through; hopefully it’s one that doesn’t last too long.  I’m sure that you’ve all attempted to sleep in your parent’s bed at one point or another during your childhood.  From what I’ve been told, I was a chronic offender.  I don’t remember all of the aspects of my big bed phase, but I do remember the straw that broke the camels back and got me banned from the big bed forever.  I recall that it got to a point where just about every other night I was running to my parent’s room and waking my Mom, telling her I had a bad dream.  My mom was (and still is) probably the nicest person in the world, because she needed no explanation at all, she would just pull the covers back and tell me to hop in.  This was the LIFE, a simple white lie and I’m sleeping in the lap of luxury. 

I’m pretty sure that it really did start off as a bad dream at one point, but once that excuse worked, I figured it would be my golden ticket to the big bed forever.  I’m not sure how long this lasted, but I do remember my Dad getting agitated.  One night, as I crept to my Mom to wake her, my Dad popped up, it was like he was an animal, hiding in the bushes to attack his prey.  He asked me what my dream was about and since there was no actual bad dream, I told him the first thing that popped into my head: and that was pigs, yup that’s right, killer pigs had come to eat me in my dream.  After my mom heard this she was extremely concerned and I was allowed entry into the big bed again.  So you know me, being a kid and all, I figured this pig thing would carry me for at least a few weeks.  I was wrong.  By the third time I used the pig dream, they were on to me and I was cut off.  Forever banished to sleep in my own bed.

I tell you this story because it’s what was running through my mind this morning at 4:30am.  I wasn’t sleeping well last night because I’m starting to get a cold, half way through the night Fefe asked if I was okay and said she’d go get me some cough drops.  Before she left, she told me not to roll over because Ty was in the bed (I’m a wild sleeper).  When she came back I ask why he was there and she informs me that he had been to the room 3 times already talking about he can’t stop having bad dreams.  Well I had had enough, this “bad dream” thing has been going on all week and it needed to come to an end. 

Do you know how alarming it is to wake up out of your sleep and see two beady eyes just staring at you?  Well I sure know what it feels like; it’s eerie to say the least.  Like, “how long have you been there, why are you just looking at me, what do you want?”  Those are the exact questions that entered my mind earlier this week when I opened my eyes & Ty’s face was so close it felt like we were sharing air.  After I finally realized what was going on, I asked Ty what was wrong & he explained that his legs felt funny.  Huh, what do you mean your legs feel funny?  He said that he had a bad dream and now his legs feel funny, they just feel really weird.  I told him that they must be fine since he was able to walk into our room.  I walked him back to his room and tucked him into bed, only to be met with tears because his legs felt funny and they won’t let him sleep.  So I pull the covers back and examine his legs, move them around and wiggle them until I get a smile.  Apparently his legs were fine and so was he, because when I told Fefe about the incident the next morning, she was almost able to finish my sentences for me.  Because he pulled the same routine on her the night before.

Back to last night and Ty’s three bad dreams.  I was already in a bad mood because I was getting sick, then to hear that he had successfully pulled off the “bad dream” scheme again, it was too much to take at 4:30 in the morning.  So instead of going back to sleep, the story from my childhood played in my mind and I recalled one of the tactics that my parents used on me during this phase. 

So this morning before I left for work, I asked Ty why he was in our bed and he explained that he had 3 bad dreams but could only remember one of them.  I asked him to tell me about the dream that he could remember and he hesitated for a moment and then told me: the bad dream was about his bad dream getting him. Lol, being in my shoes you have to laugh at that because it makes no sense; I think it’s actually worse than the killer pigs that I had come up with so many years ago.

I told Ty that since he keeps having bad dreams, we were going to have to do something about it, to stop them.  His face lit up at this idea, I guess what he had in mind to stop them was moving into our bed, but I had other plans.  I explained that watching TV can cause bad dreams, and since he keeps having bad dreams that maybe he shouldn’t watch any TV today.  That way he won’t have anymore dreams when he goes to sleep.  The look on his face was priceless, it switched from a “yes, the moment I’ve been waiting for look” to a “oh no, what have I done look”.  It was great, and I think it was just what he needed.  I doubt we’ll be hearing of any more bad dreams for a while, but I’ll keep you all posted.