Confession time: My kid doesn't go to sleep by herself. Most nights I lie with her until she drifts off. I know, she should at five hop up the steps off to her bed on her own with a kiss over her shoulder and a hug goodnight. Doesn't work that way. Yet.
It's been a tough year with her father away a good part of it. I guess she and I have needed some extra cuddling time. And I guess I don't feel guilty about it. It can be a pain. It can also be amazing.
With this unwelcome habit, sleep time has turned into a welcome time for mom and daughter to stare at each other, talk to God, wonder about everything under the sun, then be quiet, wind down. Some nights the process takes longer than others.
We have a new thing we do--my attempt to focus her on getting to sleep, something she's never been very good at, not since birth.
In our new dream game, we tell each other one thing we're going find for one another in our dreams that night. We don't describe it though--not til the next morning, sometimes not until the next night. "What did you get me in your dream last night?" And we trade stories.
She's found me lots of treasures--a pink unicorn with a yellow horn and gold feet, a pretty purple blouse, a brown pony. All things I'd like very much. In my dreams at least. I've found her a shimering purple and pink dress with white lace on the hem, a brown pony (are we getting the pony theme yet?), and tonight I went off to find her a necklace.
As soon as I close my eyes and set off on my dream mission, the vision forms almost instantly. Tonight's necklace was so beautiful--I wonder if one exists. It looks like this: On a silver chain hangs a bright round stone sunshine pendant, and in the middle of the sunshine, a single tear drop, made of dark purple/blue shiny stone, outlined in silver. I'll tell her about it tomorrow.
How tears give way to sun, how night turns to day, how tomorrows get better.
She had a tough day. Overtired from our trip, she was a bear, the child you don't like to recognize as your own, yourself in your worst mood. Tough to watch.
Now she's sleeping, and I wonder what she'll find for me in her dream. Tomorrow morning we'll trade stories about our dream game. I'll get to hear about my treasure.
And tomorrow night I'll lie down with her again.
