I haven't been able to watch a scary movie in a very long time. When I was pregnant with my first child, my husband and I went to see 'House of 1000 Corpses' and that was it. The End. No more scary movies for me. I remember covering up my belly with my arms during the extra spooky parts just in case the baby could see out of my belly button. Now, I just can't stomach them at all.
Let me clarify what I mean by "scary." Zombies, werewolves, vampires? No, they don't scare me. Zombies aren't real. Even though Twilight has made me kinda secretly want werewolves and vampires to exist, they don't. What scares me the most are movies about person on person violence and/or anything having to do with a breach in the welfare of a child. They scare me because they could happen.
Last night my daughter woke me up screaming, "Mommy!" She doesn't really call me Mommy too much anymore. She's dropped the Y for the most part. So this burst of toddlerism that came through sent me running stumbling into her room. There she was in a pool of sweat - scared. She had a dream about someone taping a note to her back that read "You've been warned."
I didn't know what to say.
Normally my kids' nightmares consist of things I think are silly: Extra big marshmallows, ghosts, falling into a volcano... I know they're not silly things to my kids, but they're easy for me to fix. I can say easy words to calm them... it'll be ok...that's never going to happen...you're safe now.
But what could I say to my scared daughter at 2AM about a scary stranger with scary warnings that plague her sleep? I told her that Daddy & I will always be here to protect her and that we'd never let anything bad happen when we're around. It was enough for her to fall back asleep until morning. But it wasn't enough for me.
I stayed up thinking of all the scary movies I'd ever seen. Placing my kids in the same movie situations in my head. Scaring myself so much that I wanted to take my family and go live in a bubble somewhere. But that won't do.
It was my daughter that soothed me this morning. I told her how I couldn't sleep last night. She asked me why. I didn't want to tell her that HER dream scared the bejeezus out of me. I told her, "Oh, just a bad dream." So she went back to her Dropped Y vocabulary and said, "Mom, it was just a dream. Don't worry about it."
Plain and simple. The dream was over and my daughter moved on. So should I.