Nightmares on Our Street

You know on Cbeebies you can send in birthday cards you have made for your kids – home made pictures of them getting hugs by Auntie Mabel, getting a high five from Bob the Builder, perhaps hiding behind a tree with a Zingzilla? I am going to make one for Alex and send it in. It will be a Usual Suspects style identifaction line up, with Mr Maker, The talking cabbage from Mr McGreggors nursery, The Number Taker from the Number Jacks and the baddy from Lazy Town. It would say “Which one of you meant that I spent all of last night like this?!”.

Nightmares.

Poor Alex. I vividly remember having them when I was little and pretending I had an electric drill to drill through the wall to my parents room next door…

It started that he screamed and cried during the night one night. We soothed him. He went back to sleep in his own room. It has got progressively worse. Will only sleep on me in the chair in his room…will only fall asleep in our bedroom with us and we move him across…will only sleep in our room with us after he wakes during the night…will not go to sleep at all now in his own room without the mother of all paddy whacks and crying himself to sleep. The other night I went up to try and settle him (again) because I could hear him throwing his body against the door and when I got to his room his fingers were scrambling around under the door. Awful. Is this night terrors? Is this habbit? Is this hell? Is this normal? Is this ever going to end?

Night light? Check. Open door now? Check. Soothing pre-bedtime routine of no TV, bath, book, milk? Check.

Child continuing to scream upstairs? Check.

As always, I can only think to try and find some humour in this (or I will go crazy and start dribbling on the computer keys).

So this is how we sleep…

I lie awake at night thinking about how much space we waste.

We can’t use it because if we did the duvet would go over Alex’s head, so we all have to shuffle down to the bottom of the bed to sleep and wake up with cramp.

Instead of sleeping, I then lie in bed and think about getting one of these…

(minus the stick) because sleeping with Alex is like sleeping with Freddie Krueger. *makes a mental note at 3am to cut his nails in the morning*.

We could make extra money from that wasted space above our heads. We could rent out Ed and Alex’s rooms and Ed could sleep with us as well. Like this.

See – even enough room for all the bears and blankets and cars and bricks he insists on sleeping with every night.

Or…we wouldn’t have to worry anymore about inviting family over for christmas and finding them somewhere to sleep.

They could do this…

*sigh*

With Ed we had episodes when he would wake at night screaming, and whoever went in (you could put money on it) would get whacked and hit at. The second person in, could calm him. Didn’t matter who it was, first or second. A tramp could have gone in second and soothed him better than husband or I. But this with Alex, feels more raw. As I type this (he is soothed and asleep on our bed, where I army rolled off the bed and snuck downstairs – it is on 7.30pm) my heart is pounding in my chest. Badum. Badum. Badum.

I do know what to do….If my heart is beating out of my chest, then his must be 100 times worst. Trust my instincts, but follow his lead.

Any advice will be greatly appreciated.

March 8, 2012. Tags: , , , , , , . Uncategorized. 4 comments.