It’s 2:12 a.m., I’m awake, and I’m not happy about it. And what’s worse is I’m not happy with myself for being not happy about being awake. What?! Yes, I awoke at 1:47 a.m. to my husband whispering loudly (because he was freaked out by our daughter sneaking in so quietly so as not to scare us), “What?! Bella, what’s wrong? What are you doing up?” So I wake up to find a little girl peering over me silently, which totally freaked me out! “I’m scared” she says, “Can I just sleep down here?”

Many parents would just say to climb on in bed with them, but we have a full size bed not conducive to family co-sleeping. Yes, that is done on purpose. My husband and I like sleeping close and alone. We neither want, nor need the wide-open field of space between us that the “luxury” of a king size bed provides. Our children have beautiful, comfortable rooms decorated to their liking designed specifically for their sleeping needs, and we believe that’s where they need to be. But that could be a whole other post about all of that. I just know that would be a common reaction to my dilemma. Just let her sleep with you, and everyone could get back to sweet dreamland and all would be right with the world. Except that with my little tumbler in the bed, somebody, or really the two people who actually belong in the bed, would be kicked and hit at just the moment slumber may find us again, or we would be so hot from the body heat, that peaceful rest would not find us.  Yes even my mom, who has had Bella sleep over many a night, and who always believed it was harmless to just let her climb in, has learned that if you let her sleep “with you”, you will end up on the couch, and the purpose of the co-sleeping is completely defeated. Not to mention that the child has never been good at falling asleep when anyone is in the room with her, so you all end up being awake forever talking, because she doesn’t stop. Her brain never stops!

The other reason that just letting my scared little munchkin into our bed is not the best choice is that this is a fairly common problem we are trying to figure out how to get a handle on.  Tonight the issue was because we started a movie for the kids that my husband swears she has watched before, and it got “too scary” for her. Since I was in the middle of rolling her hair for her big cheer competition tomorrow (yes, a huge reason she really needs a good night of sleep) she and I moved our operation up to her bedroom and she watched a funny movie on her Nook to take her mind off of the other.  So I finished her hair, she finished the movie, and we got her all settled into bed. At that point she was already working herself up to having a bad night because she was afraid that she would be afraid from that scary part in the movie. She was so scared that she would have bad dreams that she was afraid to go to sleep. So we said our prayers, I turned on her dream light, and promised to check on her in a bit. I kept my promise, as I always do, and checked on her around midnight when we went to bed, and she was sleeping peacefully. Until 1:47 a.m.

The thing is, this happens so often. She’s afraid to go to sleep because she’s afraid she’ll have bad dreams. She’s afraid of the nighttime, she’s afraid of being alone. When this happened just a few nights ago she asked me why we have to have night. Why it can’t be light all the time so the world would be less scary. Her dreams are scary, and very real to her, so I can understand her being afraid of having one. She used to be (until about 2 or 3 months ago) afraid of cheetahs, and alligators. She was sure they would climb into her upstairs bedroom window and eat her while she’s sleeping, because she had a dream about that. I’m not sharing any of these things to ridicule my sweet, innocent child, I just don’t understand. And believe me she tries to help me understand. Tonight she told me she was having a “blank dream” and she woke up because she was afraid it would turn into a bad dream about the scary movie. Why? Why can’t it turn into a funny dream about the funny movie?! “Because that’s how my brain processes things, Mommy. I’m just a kid, and that’s just how my brain does it.”

“Can’t you just shut your brain off?!” I want to scream, because I’m frustrated. “Why do you have to process it at all? It’s just a dumb movie you didn’t even watch 15 minutes of, and you watched an hour and a half of something funny after it, so process that!” I’m thinking. And believe me, I was biting my tongue practically til it bled, because I was so annoyed with now being wide awake (obviously, since it’s 2:58 a.m. and I’m up writing my little heart out), and neither of us will be well rested for tomorrow, and once again I’m just a big fat failure of a mom because I just don’t know what to do to make this better, and to help her feel safe. And then I’m even angrier with myself for getting upset, because I know it’s not her fault. I know she’s just afraid and doesn’t know what else to do. And that’s my job, to help her. I feel so bad for her, I hate that she’s scared, and I hate even more that I don’t know how to solve the problem. I can comfort her by speaking softly and sweetly, by stroking her hair and rubbing her beautiful face, but that doesn’t make the big problem better. That’s the biggest issue here…I suck as Bella’s mom because I’m not equipped to handle this brain of hers. Or I sometimes don’t feel like I am. I know God sees it otherwise, because He entrusted her to me, and He trusts me to raise her. And Lord knows I’m trying my hardest. But when my best isn’t good enough, what’s a mom to do? Bella knows I’m frustrated, as much as I try to be patient. I don’t want her to feel like she can’t get me up when she needs me, but I want her to learn that’s she’s ok, too. Nothing terrible has ever happened to her, Daddy and I are right here in the same house, with our door open. If you call out to us we can hear you easily. It’s our job to listen and be aware. Daddy is a great protector, and will not let anything happen. And cheetahs and alligators are not breaking in the window at 2 a.m. I have taught the poor child to say prayers to God to take away these scary thoughts; she has a dream catcher and a dream light (which was a life saver for a little while). Tonight my brilliant idea, or so I thought, was for her to imagine that she built a robot (because that is her dream) that is packing those scary thoughts and bad dreams in a box and pushing them way to the back of her brain. Then the robot will bring forward the box of happy, funny thoughts and memories and will start unpacking those and showing them to her. Of course tonight the girl who could go to “Bella World” and go to the mall and hotel there and marry Obi Wan Kenobi there in the middle of the night decided to be all practical on me, and said with a giggle “Mom, I’m pretty sure there’s no robot that could really do that, but it was a good thought.” Ugh! Mommy’s trying here sweet girl!

It’s 3:27 a.m., and thankfully she, along with the rest of the house, is sound asleep once again. I have vented my frustration, I have prayed over my baby, as well as the rest of my family, and I have thanked God for this sweet miracle He entrusted to me. I have thanked Him for making my best good enough for her, and for picking up the slack where I just can’t be enough.  And now I think it’s time for this tired mommy to have a bowl of cereal to quiet my rumbling tummy and get back to dream land for just a few precious hours of zzzzs.