Dam the Monsters

It’s 3 a.m. and I’ve just spent the last ten minutes constructing a “monster dam” in Piper’s bed. What’s a “monster dam” you ask? It’s when you pile up all your pillows and the 200 stuffed animals from your bed into a barrier, like a beaver dam, that blocks your bottom bunk from the entry point of monsters. Monsters can’t climb over a pillow mound, apparently.

Isn’t this the same little girl who Wanted: One Monster Under the Bed?

“Every time I fall asleep my imagination sends scary stuff,” Piper whimpers.

I hold her close, willing away the monsters. “Let’s try to think happy thoughts instead,” I suggest. “What makes you happy?”

“The beach, ice cream, Sissy, when there aren’t monsters in my head.”

Then I do what moms have been doing since the advent of the first monster dream, I bring her to bed with me. It’s a desperate move. I’m sure it’s one I’ll regret in the morning. Right now all I want is sleep. I’ll take a snoring little girl with a foot in my face to get it.

“Mommy, if I close my eyes are you sure I won’t see monsters?” I’m not. But I have to say I am or there won’t be anymore sleep and we’ll both be nightmares tomorrow.

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