Nightmare on Sesame Street

Nightmares seem to be a chronic problem in this house. We all have them. I have them. Amelia has them. Emerson has them. Growing up, that it how I processed life. I would dream. Dream after dream. Recurring nightmare after recurring nightmare. And it appears that I have passed this curse (or is it a gift?!) onto both of my children, but especially Amelia. My husband died three years ago this month. And in those three years, Amelia has spent much of her sleeping hours fighting demons that she won't talk about. We wake up screaming at least three times a week, which is way better than it was about a year ago where it was three times a night. We tried EVERYTHING! Dream catchers, reading happy stories before bed, talking about the best parts of our day together, singing songs...I got rid of all of her old furniture and bought her a brand new bedroom set, hoping to rid her room of any evil memories for her. We eventually had our dear Pa come down and install one of those super awesome canopies that gracefully drape the bed, telling her that the canopy would keep the bad dreams away. Nothing worked! My poor baby was waking all the time screaming with horrific nightmares. Nightmares that, as her mother, killed me to not be able to chase away. And then, we got a gift. My therapist (huh...imagine that I have to see a therapist! No idea why...LOL) gave me a pouch. And inside the pouch were Guatamalan worry dolls. Five little tiny matchstick-sized dolls. The theory behind the dolls was that you would take them out and one at a time you would share a "worry" you had about the day. The dolls go back into the pouch and you tie the bag back up and place them under your pillow. The dolls take care of your worries and take away your nightmares. At this point, I was still willing to try anything, but was skeptical that anything would ever work. I talked them up. I told her the process and how they were supposed to work and we tried them. And we went like six whole months with no nightmares! The miracle I was hoping for! She slept...peacefully. In the time since we got the dolls, we have had very few nightmares. But, October is a rough month for me and my girls. And even though she is a mere six years old, she still knows that this month is different. My anxiety increases...my tears flow more freely, even though I try with all my might to hide those from my girls, or anyone...my patience wears a bit thinner...and through this, I know that my girls become unsettled as well. So, the nightmares are back...for everyone. I have nightmares where it's just easier and less terrifying if I just stay awake. Amelia is back to having nightmares and gets angry that her worry dolls have stopped working. Emerson is also starting to have nightmares. It's frustrating for me as a momma. I don't care if I have nightmares. I see the value in them, most of the time, and I know that it's my way of working through things. But, I would give anything to take them away from my babies. So, our One More Thing moment: "Mommy...please stand by my door a little bit longer tonight. I need to get ready." She then proceeded to stack her pillows, bury her head under the pillows and pull her blankets over the top of her head. Immediately my heart sank because I knew that the worst of her nightmares were back. "Amelia...are you OK?" "I will be, mommy..." "But you're not now?" "I don't want you to get mad!" "Honey, why would I get mad?" "Because I'm playing when I should be sleeping..." "What do you mean?" "Well, my bad dreams are back again. And they are super scary. But, if I put my head under my pillow and squeeze my eyes shut super tight, I can play a game and it helps. It's just my bedtime game. I close my eyes and pretend that I'm in Hercules (our current favorite Disney movie) and that the Titans are after me. I've seen Hercules a billion times and I know that even though the gods were scared of the Titans, that Hercules saved them all and threw the Titans away from Zues's house in the sky. So, if the gods can defeat the Titans, I can defeat my bad dreams. I'm sorry I play when I should be sleeping." Tears well up in my eyes just thinking about my poor baby fighting those Titans in her sleep...the nightmares that plague her. And although she's only six and should only be scared of the big bad wolf, or snakes, or mean dogs, I know that my baby fights worse demons than that. And it breaks my heart. But, her one more thing of tonight teaches me a lesson as an adult. When the going gets tough, there are ways to make it better for yourself. When you are pressured or stressed or worried or fighting your demons in life, put it into a perspective that might make it seem better. Because if my six year old can replace the monsters in her dreams, with the Titans provided by Walt Disney, I can do the same with my monsters that I battle. Sleep well, my baby girl...sweet dreams, please God...sweet dreams...