The Bad Dreams

Jack and I had a very intense night last night. He woke me up around 2 am letting me know that he had a bad dream. On instinct and like a robot, I led him back to his room and went to sleep in the extra bed in his room.  All the while doing this while my eyes half open. Usually this works and he goes right back to sleep.  This time, he stayed awake.  I could tell from his breathing that he was just laying there with eyes wide open.  A mom can tell when her kids eyes are open.  Trust me. 

The whole night was full of interruptions. He would wake up every 10 minutes.  Telling me that he had a dream.  He had a good dream.  He had a bad dream.  It went on and on.  I kept telling him that he can't tell me his dreams any more since it is so early in the morning.  I kept telling him that he needed to sleep and that he needed to stop thinking of whatever was making him feel bad. By the 4th time I told him this,  he  finally started to fall asleep. Now I started to hear his heavy breathing. 
But now I couldn't sleep.  By this point we were doing this whole song and dance for almost two hours and I was just laying there.
My mind was distracting me. It was telling me that I had to go to the bathroom.  I never go in the middle of the night but tonight of all nights I needed to get out of bed.  I kept listening to the sounds outside.  A freight train was rolling non-stop. I think we are about a mile away from the tracks.  But I heard the train as if it was outside right underneath my windows. I kept hearing creaks outside. At this point I was cursing the suburbs.  And all of its creepy noises at night.

He finally went to sleep around 5 am. That was only because I told him that he could sleep in my room with my husband. It was there where he felt safe. I think that was why he finally drifted. That or that he has been awake for three hours in the middle of the night. 

I am not sure what to do now with this new phase in my child's life. Do I let him sleep with us? That will only create a bad habit of which I do not want to encourage. 

I remember when I was little , I would cry out for my parents because I had a bad dream. Sometimes I dreamt of them dying and that I was all alone. I remember crying in my bed and my dad or mom would say "It was just a dream" . They would stay with me until I fell asleep. I remember them leaving the room, but I was so sleepy I was never able to protest for them to stay. My son, however is a fighter. Picking up all my traits of wanting a parent by his side in the middle of the night, and not wanting to let them go as he would go to sleep.