As I tucked him neatly into his Star Wars sheets last night, my favorite kid in the whole world looked up at me with his precious eyes and dimples and smiled that gooey “I love you” smile that makes a mom’s heart pool into her ankles. Ok. Just read that. He didn’t actually look at me with his dimples. That would be cree-py. He used his eyes. But his dimples punctuated it. Anyway.
He wrapped his little arm around me to pull me closer and he sighs, “Mom, you’re a beautiful nightmare.”
Me: A what?
K: You’re a nightmare, mom. But a beautiful one.
Me: — Honey, aren’t nightmares bad dreams? Like, as in, nobody really wants one?
K: Sorta. But you’re the nightmare about a beautiful princess who falls into the volcano, and then she comes out and she’s covered in lava but she goes into the forest and defeats the dragon anyway, and then she, like, goes fishing. That nightmare’s kinda good, right?
Me: ? Ok sweetie. *smooch*
When I posted this on Facebook I got all kinds of response about not letting him listen to the radio anymore but seriously, all we listen to is Sirius XM Kids Place Live. I’ve totally been racking my brain about where this could have come from and what to do about it but the answer popped into my head last night.
The answer is this: I should relax a bit. I can’t control his dreams, and I don’t want to. I’m lucky that we are close and he wants to tell me all about them. That’s worth enjoying, and celebrating, not fretting over and analyzing.
He’s a hilarious kid who loves his parents (at least for now). His comment was a surprising, sweet, if not slightly jarring reminder that sometimes things suck and when that happens, he and his mommy and daddy keep going. And we even manage to go fishing. To hear him tell it (and I love hearing him tell it), even the most horrifying nightmare can, in retrospect, be an awesome adventure.
I’m still not ever letting him listen to Top 40 Radio though.
kellimack 