Not sure why, but Brandon's been having nightmares off and on lately. At first we thought it was because he watched a scary movie at a friend's house, but that was a few weeks ago. So for awhile he was reluctant to go to sleep and started coming up with reason after reason to come down the hall. Finally I asked what would make him feel more comfortable and safe at bedtime. Well, first it was moving the dream catcher that's over his bed ("because it's not doing it's job") over to another spot. Then it was surrounding himself with his stuffed snake, dinosaur, dolphin, bat and his God Bear. Then it was snuggling with the pillow that his Grandpa Staigle made. And finally, being covered up with mom and dad's snuggly lap blankets. And he slept good for about a week and a half.
Which leads us to this morning. Went in to wake him up to get him ready for his summer camp that he has this week. He opens his eyes, looks at me, and bursts into tears. He wanted to talk about the nightmare, but not to me. To dad. Because his nightmare was that I cut him up and then disected him like a frog. Uh, kay, I know I was in a bad mood yesterday (which tends to happen when I get 4 hours of sleep, spread out over the entire night) but I didn't think it was that bad. He was greatly relieved to find out that I missed that week of biology (because I was thrown from a horse, of all things) and therefore didn't ever learn how to disect a frog. In fact, I managed to avoid disecting pretty much everything else, as well. So in Brandon's mind, that means I don't have the necessary skills to do him any harm, and therefore he is safe. Glad we cleared that up.
