The Boogeyman and Other Nighttime Fears

I don't sleep well when my husband is not at home. Seeing as how he works 24-hour shifts every few days, this can be a problem.

I don't sleep well because I hear things. The thunk of a child's leg bumped against the wall. The murmering of a child talking in their sleep. The squeak of doors as sleepy-headed little ones stumble off to the potty. And of course, the imagined footsteps of someone come to murder us in our sleep!

Yes, I tend to hear footsteps. I don't know what it is that makes the noise, but that's definitely what it sounds like. At the start of it my ears perk up, my adrenaline starts flowing, and I start mentally reviewing my contingency plan for What To Do If Someone Breaks Into the House. (interestingly, we had another type of footstep noise that would happen a lot at our previous home. It was even worse than the noises at this house. Do you suppose we have a ghost that just likes to walk? I know! Maybe it's our guardian angel, eh?)

I started making a plan like this back ten years ago when my husband first because a firefighter and was no longer always at home at night. We had just one child then, and I feared that some murderous stalker was out figuring which nights my husband was not home so that he could come and rape and murder me in the night. This, despite the fact that we lived in a small, extremely safe town, out on a farm such that barely anyone would even know we were there unless it was pointed out to them. And we had two dogs, one of which roamed around outside at night so would definitely have barked if an intruder was skulking around. (But! You know, the dog could be poisoned or something! You never can tell!)

From there we went to having two children, and I got to start working up a new plan that not only included flight from intruders, but also a Where To Go In Case of Tornado, which was actually a very realistic need because we lived in a trailer that swayed to and fro with any winds above 30 mph. We had one great big storm when my new daughter was only about 2 weeks old and I was home alone that night not relishing the idea of having to do lay in a ditch someplace to save my children's lives!

Once we got up to three kids I figured I was dead meat if anybody came around wanting to kill or harm me, because I didn't know how I could drag/carry all three kids to safety if need be. So, for a few years I think I just went with the Hope Nothing Bad Happens plan, which I guess worked alright.

Now that the kids are older and there are 6 of them, I also worry about the what-ifs of somebody breaking in and hurting one of them. It didn't help my fears any a few years back when there were so many children in the news that had been abducted right from their own homes. This prompted me to get a dog (farm dogs were gone by this point), which did help subside my fears somewhat.

But still, I have trouble sleeping. We live in a different town that is also small and fairly safe. Our particular area is fairly well away from what crime there typically is around here. And our house is better lit than any of our neighbors, so I like to think that we would not be a choice target for crime. That and the fact that anybody can look at our backyard and see that we have little kids and nothing fancy. Surely all of the kidless neighbors and their pristine yards and perfect-condition new cars and yard care implements would look like a better target to a crook, right? (not that I wish ill on my neighbors, mind you! Just that I wish it to not be on me!)

My husband told me the other day that one of our windows is needing to be replaced because he discovered that it can be pushed in even when it appears to be locked. Nice. Great thing to know the day before he goes on shift and has no way to fix it yet! And, there is no small matter of a thief around town that has done a lot of break-ins recently. Fortunately for me, none of them have been near our house, and all of the break ins have been through unlocked doors and windows, apparently only to steal money, not hurting anyone. But, still..... ("Dear Mr. Robber Guy: We have 6 little kids and we live on one income and my husband is a fire fighter. So, in other words, we have nothing worth stealing here. We never have cash on hand, except for the coin jar marked 'Disney' which has about $60 in it toward our future trip to Disney World. Please go away and stop doing bad stuff. Thanks.")

My fears about this thief were not helped by the fact that the day I found out about this I went around to make sure all the windows were locked, and found that two were not, including one on the ground floor that does not even have a screen and is in my 7 year old's bedroom! Today's additional freak is due to the fact that Sullen left our downstairs door wide open for some reason. It may have been open for 20 minutes or more with nobody around to notice. So this gives me good ammunition for worrying that some crazed killer has been hiding in my house since noon, just waiting for the perfect time to come upstairs and hurt me. Yes, this is good stuff, my friends. Good stuff.

And so now that I have gotten out of bed 6 times to double check about the footstep noises I was hearing, and now have written about my fears and have thusly freaked myself out even more, I do not know how I am going to get to sleep! At least when we lived in the trailer I could see almost the whole entire house in a straight shot from my bed! Now in a much bigger house and with 3 doors and bunches of windows that may-or-may-not be secure, and with a much smaller doggie than the one I used to have, I am stuck here hoping for the best and feeling guarded against the worst. Quite the recipe for a peaceful night's sleep, eh? I should probably just go camp out on the couch and read some more of the 4th Outlander book, Drums of Autumn.

Or, you know, I could dazzle you with more information about my day and adventures in parenting!

First off, Squiggy Magoo went to bed without even *asking* for you-know-what.
!!!!!!!
And he has seemed happy all evening long. So, that seems mighty good!

But Sullen is in the doghouse again tonite. He recently came up with the idea that he wanted to take up some running, and so we had been allowing him to run to his friend's house most days during the end of summer vacation. It's probably a mile or so, and part of the road he runs is narrow, plus kind of deserted, so we weren't entirely comfortable with it, but decided it was time to let him do bigger stuff, and so we rigged up a safety plan that we were satisfied with. He would take the cell phone and was supposed to call us to let us know when he got there ok. Then he was supposed to run back home by a certain time.

So, this has been going fairly well except that lately he has been forgetful about both the calling to say he arrived, and about getting home when he should. Although I generally feel confident that he is actually safe, I do not appreciate being left to wonder about it, and I have been trying not to bail him out of his responsibility by calling him right away to say, "Are you there yet?" or "You're 5 minutes late, so where are you?" I had given him the benefit of the doubt, but as usual this approach is not best suited to him.

Tonite the 3 oldest kids wanted to go to a church thing at the AG church we used to go to. It is about a half mile from our house on a somewhat busy road. My husband is at work and has the burb with all the car seats. I am stuck with one junky and uninsured (we haven't been driving it) Bronco. Since I wasn't going to cram all the kids into the Bronco, I decided the way I could work it out for them to go to this was to
1. leave Sullen in charge of the little ones
2. drop the 9 and 7 year olds off at the church
3. come directly back and then let Sullen walk to the church, on the condition that he call me when he got there.
4. AND they were supposed to arrange for a ride home since I would have the little guys in bed (hopefully) by the time they were done. They were to call me and let me know who was driving them home.

I didn't send him with the cell phone this time because the event they were going to was a water fun night, and I figured he would either lose the phone or ruin it by getting it wet. So, all he had to do was call me from the church phone. But did he? Of course not! And so I got to sit and wait and wonder, "Is he there ok? Or did he get abducted by the side of the road?" (Do you see a pattern of fear here, people?!) Eventually I tried to call the church but of course nobody was inside answering the phone because they were all outside getting wet. Great.

Eventually my 9 year old daughter calls to tell me the ride plans (at least one of my children is responsible!!) and she was able to confirm that Sullen did make it up there. So, I was able to relax while I waited for him to come home so I could tell him what the consequences were for not calling. He doesn't get to run to his friend's house tomorrow like he had planned, and will have to wait until next week before he has a chance to do so.

Horrors! How could I BE so harsh?! Am I trying to ruin his life?

So he layed on the couch looking like I had stripped him of all dignity and pasttime for about 30 minutes before sulking off to bed. I love it when I come up with logical consequences that will actually be painful. It's the only thing that will stick with him.

Hey--I just had a thought. Maybe those footsteps I am hearing is my son coming up to kill me in the night, but he keeps losing his nerve. Up and down the steps he goes trying to work up his courage.... He probably keeps giving up because he realizes how much more work he will have to do if I am not here to cook and clean and do laundry and take care of everybody.

Sullen is also in trouble because today one of his pocket knives was found.....in the grasp of the 2 year old.

Yes, I was walking past the living room and saw Squiggy Magoo sitting on the couch with a couch cushion in front of him as if he was hiding behind it, and he has a suspicious grin on his face. I almost walked past, but then decided to investigate. He had Sullen's biggest knife open, grasped in his hands, pushed toward his naked belly! (the long way, not the pointy way, but still!) I don't know how it is that he was not cut! Unfortunately, this is not the first time that one of my little ones has ended up with a knife, depite my constant nagging to keep them well hidden or put far from where little ones can reach. (and I do NOT know why my husband keeps entrusting the children with knives because not one of them has proven themselves crafty enough to put them where their little brothers will not get them) I always confiscate any knife that has fallen into the wrong hands, so now this one is mine. But I am just so thankful Squiggy wasn't hurt! Sadly, I cannot say the same for my couch cushion, which is now sporting multiple stab wounds.....

Well, on that sweet and inspirational note, goodnight, my dears! Sleep well! (wish I could)