I’ve just spent the past hour in my two year old’s bedroom, mothering him through some pretty odd dreams apparently. He needed soap, space shuttles and did not want to go home. Or he did want to go home. There was some confusion midway through this episode and he got pretty ticked off that I couldn’t understand exactly what was going on. There was a demand for his bunny tea at one point, but it had to be in the china mug NOT a sippy cup. His eyes were closed through roughly 98% of this. I’m really confused at what the hell I just experienced.
He’ll do anything to avoid sleep, this kid.
The initial cries for me, for Mommy, just about did me in though. Not particularly scared sounding or hurt, but very particularly, emphatically MOMMY. While annoyed that no, this wasn’t going to be the night he finally sleeps through the night, I felt so grateful to be the one he wanted.
I know, spare me the cheese, lady.
Jack needed Mommy and I came to the rescue. While I sat there rubbing his back and trying to shush him back to sleep, I remembered the day he was born. Specifically I remembered the moment when roughly six hours into labor I looked up to the ceiling and cried, “I want my Mom!” and then begged for an epidural. The nurse had gone to fetch me a birthing ball to sit on (yeah, that never happened…) and Roger had been dragged off to do something…I don’t know. I was walking in circles and decided to go to the bathroom when the worst contraction yet hit me and all I wanted was my mother.
I was 35 years old and mere hours from becoming a mother myself, and all I wanted was the soothing voice and arms of my own dear mother.
That little flash of memory helped carry me through tonight’s hour of sleep woes. I need my Mom too, Jack. I get it. So I folded myself up into his little toddler bed because that’s what he needed to get through the weird dreams, and I felt so glad that I could do that for him. Tomorrow night I’ll go back to enforcing the rules (no I do NOT sleep in your tiny bed, mister), but for this little while it was good to be what was needed.
It’s not that I don’t always feel this way because I do. I know that he needs the comfort of me, his mother. Sometimes though the universe wants to give you an extra nudge and tonight was my night.