I’m going to make this quick.
Dave and I recently added something new to Evelyn’s bedtime routine. After tucking her in, one of us stays and chats with her for five minutes. Then we leave the room, and every five minutes, we go back in for a quick check-in, whether she calls out or not.
Her nighttime fears, the repeated “I’m scared”s, and the constant popping in and out of bed were wearing on all of us. So after a little Googling—and addressing my own fear of being manipulated—I figured a good, proactive dose of reassurance and connection couldn’t hurt.
It hasn’t. In fact, I’m really enjoying it.
Tonight, as I lay next to her, she started crying about her lost wallet and the money that had been inside. I hadn’t realized that was weighing on her. Then, she asked if I wanted to be buried in the ground or turned into ash.
I told her I’d want to be turned into dirt—to help the plants grow.
She thought about it and said she wanted her body to help me and my plants. Cue the lump in my throat.
These nighttime conversations are tender and deep. And honestly, it makes so much sense that she’s had a tough time being in there alone. Earlier tonight, she startled at the dresser, convinced a black mass was there in the dim light of dusk. It was just her headphones, but her little body went into full prey-mode until I turned on the lamp and showed her.
I really think we’re doing the right thing. These fears aren’t hers to white-knuckle through in the dark. They’re ours to talk through and meet together.
I’d love to stay and write more, but I’ve got two episodes of The Handmaid’s Tale waiting. I begged Dave’s sister for a spoiler—does Nick die? Because after his last move, he’s on my shit list.
Oh—and I’ve got at least one or two more check-ins to make.
Thanks for dropping by. I’ll make more time for a longer chat soon.
Love,
Jaclynn
Going On 40 