The Toddler Chronicles, No. 20
Lyla had a nightmare.
A few nights ago, around 1 a.m., Gabby was asleep, and I was almost asleep watching the new Superman movie (What an interesting movie that was…).
Anyway, I heard Lyla wake up crying. I intercepted her in the living room as she came downstairs, still shudder-crying between every word.
We sat on the couch, and I said, “Hey, kiddo… what’s wrong?”
“I… had… a… bad… dream,” she said, still gasping between sobs.
I helped her take a few deep breaths and calm down—partly so she wouldn’t wake everyone else and partly so I could actually understand her—and asked what her dream was about.
In the most dramatic, tear-soaked delivery I’ve seen from her in a while, she managed:
“Someone… was… trying… to… make… me… eat… peas!”
That was her nightmare. Someone tried to make her eat peas.
I may have let a laugh sneak out.
Irritated, she glared at me through her teary eyes. “That’s not funny, Adam! I had a nightmare!”
Then she explained that she needed to sleep in my bed with Gabby and me and that she was never sleeping in her own bed again.
I told her she’d sleep better in her own bed. She sighed and said, “Fine, but I don’t want my sleep mask anymore. It gives me bad dreams with the people who tried to make… me… eat… peas.”
After several minutes, she finally calmed down and agreed to go back to her bed, but with an Elsa doll instead of the sleep mask.
The next morning, I asked if she remembered waking up and having the bad dream.
She said yes, but now it was apparently a dream where “bad people” tried to take her Elsa doll—or something that definitely wasn’t forcible ingestion of greens.
I told her what she’d actually said. Her response:
“That’s a silly dream, Adam!”