Gargoyles Eat Spiders

Last Halloween Evan was terrified by the decorations, due to the fact someone took him to look at adult size monsters standing outside a store.  As I have an overactive imagination myself and remember times were I snuggled deep into my blankets praying that I would see morning’s light, I tried to comfort Evan in any way I could.

 

Gargoyles.  Yup, that was my solution.  See, next to the Halloween store was a Hot Topic that had two gigantic gargoyles decorating the front of the store, and I explained to Evan about gargoyles protecting us from bad guys.  Because Evan was sure there were bad guys in the house, I bought a small gargoyle to place near him, even though my mom warned me that this would only haunt Evan more.  Every day I read Evan a beautiful book called God Bless the Gargoyles by Dav Pilkey, which was about how the gargoyles were good guys protecting everyone.  Evan would settle down to bed holding his gargoyle.

 

Granted I also did a lot of throwing out bad guys that were congregating in our living room.  Evan would let me know they were all hanging about as the sun went down, and I would have to give them the bum’s rush like some bartender at 2 am.  You don’t have to go home; but you can’t stay here.  Get out of my house.  Evan laughed with glee.  I tried to explain to Evan about the crosses and other random superstition things I had around the house to protect us from harm.  (My good Catholic mother rolls her eyes at how far her daughter takes some superstitions.)  Finally, even with the gargoyle, I demanded Evan show me the bad guy that was scaring him.  Evan found a toy Ring Wraith from The Lord of the Rings, that I had given to my husband years ago (My husband LOVES The Lord of the Rings trilogy).  So I told Evan to throw it outside, he did, and after a few more nights, Evan didn’t have any more nightmares.  I’m not sure what happened to the Ring Wraith.

 

So when we were having the spider issues a couple of weeks ago, Evan asked for God Bless the Gargoyles for his bedtime reading.  I pulled out the book and read it to him.

 

Evan: Mommy, can I have my gargoyle, please?

 

Me: Sure, baby, here it is.

 

Evan: Mommy, my gargoyle is going to protect me.  He’s going to chase all the spiders away.

 

Evan didn’t have another nightmare.  Of course, last night I stepped on the gargoyle and broke his wing off.  I was horrified as I said my mea culpa as I left the room, promising to glue it before the morning.  Except, we don’t seem to have any super glue, and as I pondered how to fix it, I glanced down the wing hole to see the other side where Evan had broken off the foot months before.  I think I should just buy a new one.  Maybe two, just in case.

Solutions to Spiders

Last night Evan went to bed with his newly made spider keeping watch along with his gargoyle on top of his bookcase next to his bed.  My husband decided he would lie next to Evan until Evan fell asleep. 

 

So after I turned off the lights and took Sean to bed, my husband and Evan began a long discussion of whether there were spiders or not.  My husband turned the conversation to the spider Evan made and how it kept all other spiders away.  So Evan climber out of bed, petted the spider, and laid it down to go to sleep.  Then Evan climbed back into bed and asked his father to sing him the Tiki Room song, which my husband didn’t know.  After contemplating this new development, Evan asked for a song about a Tiki, a pineapple, a princess, and a unicorn.  (I plan to write down the song my husband came up with.)  Then Evan pointed to one of his red Chinese paper lanterns and said that it was Mars.  The conversation went on.

 

After an hour, Evan was finally asleep, and my husband was free from his obligation.  He decided to go to bed too.  Now I wonder what kind of consequence this solution has. . . .

Spiders, Spiders Everywhere

Two nights ago I had a series of firsts.  Evan told me what his nightmare was about.  Not only was he able to tell me; he didn’t cry, which was another first  He also forced me to search his bed for spiders, and yet this is another first.  I assumed it would be easy to prove there were no spiders because this wasn’t a monster in the closet or under the bed that could just disappear with the flick of a light switch, promising to be back as soon as it was dark and no parents were around.  No, these were spiders.  Frightening in their own way, but they would still be there, light or no.

When I was a kid, I had two similar nightmares, where I went to my mom and woke her up to ask her to search my bed.  The first night I dreamt that a huge snake was curled up next to me and that I watched it slither down the space between my bed and wall.  My mom turned on the light, moved the bed, and showed me there were no snakes at all.  The next night I dreamt that I was covered with ants.  Again my mom came to my room, turned on my light, and diligently looked for any sign of ants.  She’s a great mom.  The reason she humored me was she remembered listening to a radio personality who told a story of his son having the same nightmare of ants as I did, only the radio guy didn’t check assuming it was a dream.  It turned out the bed was crawling with ants.  Because I grew up in Arizona, it was quite possible that a snake could have got in somehow (ask my brother).  Since I was older than Evan, when I saw the evidence that there were no snakes or ants, I went back to sleep.

Not so for my little guy.  He’s three, and he swears there are spiders in his bed.  The first time he told me, I got up and smoothed his sheets, showing him spider-free sheets.  I explained that there were no spiders in his bed, it was a dream.  The next time I turned on the lights and showed him that underneath and on top of the sheet that there were no spiders.  Did I mention it was now 3:30 in the morning?  The third time, ten minutes after I left his room, I shook out the comforter, and the forth time we looked under the bed.  The fifth time I again showed him the empty sheets.  Each time I calmly explained that there were no spiders and that it was all a dream.  It was all in his head.  Finally the sixth time, now just after 4, I asked if he would rather sleep on the floor.  He preferred my bed.  The thought of telling him there was a spider in our bed occurred to me, but I just wasn’t ready to have a mental crack.  So I said no and tried to usher him back to bed.  He decided that he would prefer to sleep on the floor, so I laid his comforter down with his pillow.  He snuggled up, and I covered him with the remaining half of the comforter.  He came back ten minutes later, and I told him go back to bed before I feed you to the spiders. 

The next morning Evan conducted his own search of spiders, and he found there were none.  But he’s terrified they will be back.  And I wonder how I can convince him.

When I was a freshman in high school, I realized our house had an unusual amount of spiders.  Probably because our old house had very few, and this new house was closer to a desert area than the old house, landlocked by several miles of neighborhoods.  One night I was just about to fall asleep, I heard a rustling under my bed.  I’ll admit at this moment I clutched my teddy bear and thought how I KNEW there were monsters under my bed.  I absolutely KNEW it!  Damn, why did I ever believe grown ups?  Now I was going to die (yes, I clearly had an over-active imagination; still do).  I peaked out one eye to watch something scurry out from under the bed.  In the pale light and my sleepy eyes, this was worse than any boogie man.  This was a scorpion.  I launched myself out of the bed and dashed to my parents’ room, where I breathlessly told my mom what was in the middle of the floor.  Because my dad was out on a call and my mom is a brave woman, she grabbed a tennis shoe and walked back to my room, flicking on the overhead light.  To reveal . . . a wolf spider.  Nothing dangerous, just scary.  My mom killed it any ways, and I asked to sleep in my mom’s bed.  She rolled her eyes and told me to go back to bed because it was a school night.  Thanks.  So then I made a promise to myself to always keep my papers under my bed to warn me (granted I picked this up years before to keep the monster from getting me).  I also decided I needed something else. 

Harry, my new pet plastic spider.  He sat just inside my doorway, keeping vigil over my room, so that I could sleep.  I loved Harry.  Not only was I convinced he kept away spiders, he would scare people who would rush into my room and see a spider out of the corner of their eye.  I moved him around every once in a while just to keep my family on guard.  I had faith Harry would keep the spiders at bay, so now I wonder if that will work for Evan.

Today we are in the midst of making our own spiders.  I have several different activities that make spiders, and I am finding more.  I’ve recorded several “Miss Spider’s Sunny Patch Friends” because Evan last night would not go to sleep in his bed.  My husband found Evan, sitting on his pillow, staring at the foot of his bed.  Evan begged his dad to allow him to “camp out.”  My husband didn’t understand what this meant because he had slept through the nightmares the previous night.  I explained and gave my consent.  But can I allow my son to keep sleeping on the floor?  So any advice on nightmares out there?