My little lad Jax (four) is having a tough time of it at the moment. He HATES the thunder storms ravaging Singapore, especially those in the wee hours of the morning, and he’s having a bit of a bad run with nightmares – bless. The tears and gnashing of teeth are momentous, until we welcome him into our bed between us, where he feels safe and secure. But his fears have now become pre-emptive, and many a night we have to get him off to sleep, reassuring him there’s nothing to be scared about, because Mummy and Daddy are here to keep him safe for as long as we can.
It’s been about a month now, and every night we hear the patter of little feet as he climbs into our bed around 1.30am or so. Last night he had a nightmare at that time, but I got him back off to sleep in his own bed, only to have him creep in again around 4am. All parents know that a small child in ‘the big bed’ looks cute in the pictures, but the reality is very different. They twist, turn, fart, and groan… it really is amazing how much space a little body can take up. A couple of times one of us has given up, sleeping in Jax’s bed, but we’re now at the point of being too tired to do anything but try to wrangle some space in our own bed to sleep.
I know some of my fellow parents out there will say it’s your own stupid fault for letting him into your bed in the first place, and they are right. BUT we made a decision when the boys were born that we’d be there for them whenever they needed it, no matter the consequences, and we’ve stuck to that promise. Making sure they feel safe and secure is our number one priority for them.
The problem is I’m now a weary, grumpy bitch and just hope Jax gets over it soon. Bless him, these fears are so real and so big, but for Mum and Dad, they’re just plain exhausting.
Parenting, remind me why the hell we do it again?
Yours, without the bollocks