Afraid of the Dark

:::yawn::: Good morning.

I find myself in an odd position. Showered, dressed, hair done, pearls donned, coffee made and… Graham? He’s still asleep. Of course, it’s not quite 7:00 am yet, but these last couple of weeks he’s been up with the birds – 6:00 am or even before – so this is a change. I sort of expected it this morning.

You see, cries came loudly over the monitor in the middle of the night last night.

“What time is it?” I asked Andy. “4:00 a.m.” he replied. So, I threw off the covers, got up, found my glasses and instinctively took off my rings and found a tie to pull back my hair. (At this stage, we don’t have middle-of-the-night wake-ups that don’t involve poop or vomit. :P) I walked upstairs and found Graham still laying down in bed, crying – but clean. We talked about what was the matter. He wasn’t able to find any words, but after some back-rubbing and rearrangement of blankets and cribmates (puppy, doggy, Elmo and the like) he said, “Fish?” so I turned on his little machine that projects a constant parade of sea creatures over his bed.

I left the room, and came back downstairs to settle in. 15 minutes later, Graham was crying again. Andy took this one. Second verse, same as the first. Andy came back down and we both tried to fall back asleep – he was more successful than I was. Eventually, his alarm went off at 5:05 and he got up and into the shower. Meanwhile, I *finally* fell asleep.

But then 5:30 rolled around and Graham was up. Again. And crying. Again.

I went upstairs to check on him. His room was dark, because the little mobile projector with his fish has a timer that had expired at least an hour ago. I picked Graham up and he laid his sleepy head on my shoulder. His jammies were wet with tears and drool. He pointed at the lamp and said, “Light… on?” I told him no because it wasn’t time to wake up yet (“Please please please, God, let it NOT be time to wake up yet.”) He let me lay him back down, but he frowned and said, “Fish?” so I turned on his little projector again. He hiccuped a heavy sigh and started rubbing his eyes. I left the room and that’s been the last I’ve heard from him.

Now I’m in that limbo of “Do I wake him up or let him sleep?” I’m inclined to let him sleep just a little longer – try and make everybody’s day be a little better.

Poor kid. Guess it’s time for a nightlight?

*Update: Graham finally woke up at 7:30, crying. He was laying in bed, rubbing his eyes, then he muttered, “Ear hurt, Mommy” So much for bad dreams – off to the doctor!


  1. Grandma Sue says:

    Poor little guy!

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