Nightmares

I am not sure what research says about when nightmares begin with children, but we hit that milestone yesterday about 3 a.m.

For once I was soundly sleeping and awoken to that blood curdling scream that every parent does not want to hear.  I seriously thought there was someone breaking into the house and Audrey was scared of the burglars.  (Yes I am a worse case scenario gal, and I was planning my attack once I opened the door.)  While the screams of terror are coming from Audrey's room, never fear, my sleep through a tornado husband doesn't stir one bit!

Once I ran into Audrey's room, she was screaming to tell me that she couldn't move because of the poop.  Seriously?  I was wiping her hands, feeling the bedsheets, and her pajama bottoms and there was nothing there.  She then proceeds to tell me that her dog was at her bedside pooping on her before I walked into the room.  Newsflash friends…we don't have a dog!

At this point something must have awoken Tyler, and he says he heard the word poop and came running.  Never thought that would be the code word to awake him from a deep slumber.  And he only stuck around to find out there was no poop and went back to bed.

I finally realized at this point that she was talking about her toy dog that bounces around and barks when turned on.  I explained to her I don't think it would poop on her, but she insisted it did and she wanted it out of her room!  So I proceeded to make sure she was okay, cleaned from all dog feces, and put the dog in the recliner where our fearless cat was sleeping.

Of course after all this drama, I was not able to fall back to sleep, so I tossed and turned and sat up in bed every time I heard a noise.  About ten minutes after I had left Audrey in her room, I heard the weirdest noise…instantly I am delirious enough to think the damn dog came to life.  To my surprise it was only Audrey dragging in her couch to fold out and sleep on the floor.  She didn't care if the dog was not in her room, I guess she needed my protection from the dog poo.

So there again I lay awake, listening to my daughter and husband breathe away as they are in dreamland, and I am trying to figure out why Audrey had a nightmare.  My only conclusion is that she has been told she cannot get a dog until she is old enough to take care of it, and that means scooping poop as well.  Both kids pretend to clean up after this toy dog and feed it whatever they whip up in their play kitchen, which is the start of showing responsibility, but we are unfortunately years away from getting a dog.

Audrey's nightmare could have been a lot worse, but for one day she did not talk about a dog, so hopefully she realizes how much responsibility a pet is and not ask for a dog for awhile.