Mami is an active dreamer.  Less now than when we were first married.  She used to sit up in bed or have a conversation while she was asleep.  Occasionally, she’d even do some sleep walking.  Apparently she’s passed it on to our boys.  For the passed few nights Q has been having very vivid dreams.  Some leave him in tears.  Others are arguments or debates with preschool friends about what toy belongs to whom.  JT’s in a similar boat but he’s a little harder to understand when he’s talking in his sleep.

There is a pretty instinctual thing that happens when I hear one of my boys call out during a bad dream.  I drop whatever I’m doing so that I can get to the room, take them up in my arms and soothe them.  I tell them that everything is OK and Papi’s here. 

I have to admit that if one of them is in the bed with us and it’s a mild dream at three in the morning, they might get a groggy, “You’re dreaming go to sleep.”  But the big a la Mami style dreams are a different story. 

I think our boys have been lucky not to have experienced any major traumas during their short lives but a bad dream gives me some insight into how they sound or react when they’re truly scared and upset.  It’s not pleasant. 

My mother used to say that when one of her children got hurt she felt the pain.  I always thought she was being dramatic.  Boy was I wrong.  When one of the boys is hurt or better yet when one of them slips or is about to fall I have a very real physical pain in my legs, right down both of my groin muscles.  There’s no doubt.  It is a very real pain. 

Sometimes one of the boys’ bad dreams can bring on the same kind of physical reaction.  Other times it’s more of an emotional drive to take the fear or hurt away.  More often then not, after a bad dream the boys are back asleep in a minute or two and none the worse for wear. 

In a selfish kind of way these are times when I fill my need to be needed.  These are moments when I only have to be Papi, who scares the monsters away or Papi, who is available for my sons to hold on to.  But these are also dissonant moments; a mix of scary dream things and the struggle to make it back to a warm bed and waiting arms.  And regardless of how good it feels to be able to comfort my boys these are moments I would gladly give up in exchange for a restful, nightmare-free sleep for each of my little princes.     

PB