My Small One had a bad dream tonight. She woke up needing to use the bathroom, but shaky and afraid, and talking about snakes and lions in her room. To make matters worse, as she was getting off her little potty she slipped and hit her head on the bathtub. I was in my room, her Daddy having been the one to tend to her that time, and I heard the impact- it was really loud.
By the time I got to the bathroom, which is not far from my room, she was hysterically crying, despite Daddy holding her. I gave business-like sympathy: "You're ok, you can stop crying, I'll get you an ice pack." The Man argued, he didn't think it warranted ice, but I hold firm to my belief that the best way to make someone feel better is to give them something to do to help themselves, and sure enough, the ice pack calmed her.
I took her into my room for a while, just to make sure she was ok, because bumps on the head freak me out a little bit. While I held her, she told me she'd had a bad dream, in which a bad lady
gave a tiny baby bottle to some guy.
"To you, Small One?"
"No, to the other guy."
Ah, I see. She didn't elaborate on why that was so bad, but it clearly upset her. We snuggled, I checked her pupils, then gave her the two minute "back to your own bed" warning. Two minutes having elapsed, she cheerfully said goodnight to her father, and I carried her back to her own room.
"I'm gonna have good dreams now, Mommy?"
"Yes, sweetie, you're going to have good dreams."
"I need a good dream in my ear. Can you put one in my ear?"
I leaned into her crib and whispered in her ear about soft bunnies and playful kitties, and she smiled, satisfied, thanked me, and went to sleep. I think maybe I need a good dream in my ear, too.