Trains and Websites
At 2am last night (yes, I was awake and mentally absorbed in reworking my blog and website last night--or should I say the wee hours of the morning-- when I should have been working on my latest short story for the Writer's Digest Competition, but I digress) the little guy woke up screaming. Not the, "Hey, I want to snuggle in your BED" scream but the, "SOMETHING IS WRONG, TERRIBLY WRONG" scream.
I frantically climb the stair to his room, almost killing myself on the sharp turn as my foot mis-placed the shortened step in the darkness of the stairwell, and find him trying to (how can I describe this?) climb the wall, scratching at it and wailing, "I wanna play trains." And in case I didn't catch it the first time he says again, "I wanna play TRAINS NOW!"
As you can probably tell, I am more than a little confused and almost paralyzed with non-mommy instincts on how to handle this. I reach out to him to try and soothe an obviously confused (and from what I could detect in the sheer darkness of 2am) and likely still dreaming child. He swats me away and says (yet again)- "I wanna play TRAINS!" scratching at the wall in front of him at some obviously desirably trains.
Now at this point, I can't stifle a giggle. It is an hysterical moment in parenthood where you just find yourself wondering where the candid camera is hidden. I take him into my arms and wrestle him to a sitting position chanting (and over), "It's all right buddy, you're dreaming." And he finally calms down. Finally relaxes into my lap and back into sleep.
As I round the treacherous corner on my way back downstairs after calming the boy- the husband is standing at the bottom of the stairs rubbing his eyes, "What's wrong." He says, rubbing his eyes, "What's wrong? Is he okay?" He mumbles again reaching for the railing to head upstairs.
"Bad dream," I say reaching for his hand and give it a squeeze.
"Over imaginary trains?"
I giggle again.
"Are you sure he is okay? I heard the scratching sound and I thought it was the cats clawing at the door and..."
At this point I just lead him the bedroom. For a man who is typically grumpy as all get out when awoken up--I was amazed he could put two sentences together that weren't in a gruff leave-me-alone-type-tone.
As both my boys crawled back into bed and the soft snores started sounding in unison (one from a monitor, the other from the room around the corner)- I went back to my website building and tweaking. Another hour flew by, little one awoke again--this time screaming for trucks, and I decided it way past my bedtime too- and we both snuggled into the big bed for a couple hours til morning.
Note: I don't remember the last time I stayed up that late involuntarily (for work- yes. For the baby, yes. But for me- doing NOTHING important... it has been ages. ). Maybe things are taking a turn for the normal! :-)
I frantically climb the stair to his room, almost killing myself on the sharp turn as my foot mis-placed the shortened step in the darkness of the stairwell, and find him trying to (how can I describe this?) climb the wall, scratching at it and wailing, "I wanna play trains." And in case I didn't catch it the first time he says again, "I wanna play TRAINS NOW!"
As you can probably tell, I am more than a little confused and almost paralyzed with non-mommy instincts on how to handle this. I reach out to him to try and soothe an obviously confused (and from what I could detect in the sheer darkness of 2am) and likely still dreaming child. He swats me away and says (yet again)- "I wanna play TRAINS!" scratching at the wall in front of him at some obviously desirably trains.
Now at this point, I can't stifle a giggle. It is an hysterical moment in parenthood where you just find yourself wondering where the candid camera is hidden. I take him into my arms and wrestle him to a sitting position chanting (and over), "It's all right buddy, you're dreaming." And he finally calms down. Finally relaxes into my lap and back into sleep.
As I round the treacherous corner on my way back downstairs after calming the boy- the husband is standing at the bottom of the stairs rubbing his eyes, "What's wrong." He says, rubbing his eyes, "What's wrong? Is he okay?" He mumbles again reaching for the railing to head upstairs.
"Bad dream," I say reaching for his hand and give it a squeeze.
"Over imaginary trains?"
I giggle again.
"Are you sure he is okay? I heard the scratching sound and I thought it was the cats clawing at the door and..."
At this point I just lead him the bedroom. For a man who is typically grumpy as all get out when awoken up--I was amazed he could put two sentences together that weren't in a gruff leave-me-alone-type-tone.
As both my boys crawled back into bed and the soft snores started sounding in unison (one from a monitor, the other from the room around the corner)- I went back to my website building and tweaking. Another hour flew by, little one awoke again--this time screaming for trucks, and I decided it way past my bedtime too- and we both snuggled into the big bed for a couple hours til morning.
Note: I don't remember the last time I stayed up that late involuntarily (for work- yes. For the baby, yes. But for me- doing NOTHING important... it has been ages. ). Maybe things are taking a turn for the normal! :-)
