Sleeping with the Anti-Christ

One of my many, many childhood quirks that made me such an adorable kid was my habit of sleepwalking and it's delightful companion sleep talking.  Growing up my parents found me on the top of the stairs, under tables, and even on the porch...sound asleep. My mom once witnessed me exit the front door and make my way to the lawn, where the cold, wet grass jostled me awake and I stood blinking confusedly.

Often times - especially as an adult - my sleepwalking was triggered by anxiety.  I first recognized this when I was in 10th grade.  I had a small part, one or two lines, in the school play, Our Town.  My Theia Mimi made me a pair of knickers for the part by sewing elastic in the leg holes of a pair of her old pants. (They were hideous, but seeing me in them nearly killed Mimi with laughter!).

When I went to bed the night after our first performance, the play was still heavy on my mind. I had a restless night; I remember I kept dreaming about playing multiple characters in every scene. In the morning I was exhausted...and my usually immaculate bedroom was strewn with clothes everywhere - the knickers, one leg turned inside out, were on my pillow - the result of a night of sleepwalking costume changes.

Since moving in with Kelly, my sleepwalking has become less frequent - however, he did once find me standing outside of our apartment in San Francisco at 1:00 a.m. excited about what a beautiful day it was - but my sleep talking has increased.

His favorites include:

• Honorable mention - sitting straight up in bed and angrily dropping three staccato f-bombs, before laying back down;
• Bronze - presenting to what must have been a very large group in our bedroom;
• Silver - asking him if the vegetable crisper in the refrigerator was filled with snakes; and
• Gold - flinging the blankets off of me and pounding on them with all my might as I yelled, "There's a rat in the bed!"

Yeah. The morning after that gold medal-winning performance, he emailed all our friends relaying with great amusement the events of the previous night and adding, "It's like sleeping with the Anti-Christ."

So why am I sharing all of this? Well, the boys have been sleep talkers from the first moment they formed real words, but neither of them had any sleep walker tendencies; well not until the other night.

I was up late writing, when I heard shuffling in the other room. At first I chalked it up to the guinea pigs, but then I heard a low mumbling.  The pigs shuffle, but they don't mumble.

Cautiously, I got up from the computer and peered into the play room. There, standing in front of a very confused-looking Gracie, was Niko.  I asked him what he was doing. No response. I asked him if he was OK. Nada. So I told him it was bedtime, and like a little wind-up toy, he pivoted on his heels, walked back up stairs to his bedroom, and crawled into bed.

In the morning I asked him why he had been come downstairs the night before. He looked at me like I was a gyro short of a combo plate.  Then, smiling, I asked him, "Don't you remember coming downstairs last night?" He shook his head. And I told him he had been sleepwalking.

Immediately, he grinned ear-from-ear, and an expression that seemed to say, "YES! This is going to be great!" crept over a rather mischievous face!

I just hope he never tries to stamp out imaginary rats in the bed - one Anti-Christ in the family is enough!