somnambulism

ever wanted to know the scientific term for sleepwalking?  it's somnambulism.

ever wondered why we know this?  well, for the past month, we've been witnessing it.  about once a night, always between the kids' bedtime and ours, we'll hear liam's door open, and the pitter-patter of his feet as he uses the bathroom.  but after that, his journey becomes interesting.  most often, he'll join chris in our room, wordlessly climbing into our bed.  other times, he'll return to his room, but turn on his light and stand in the middle of the floor with his stuffed animals in his arms.  he never says a thing; he just looks at us with a sort of blank face and quickly confuses us as much as he seems to be himself.

but a few nights this past week, he took a lengthier detour.  twice he pounded down the stairs to find me at the computer (where i always am these evenings, catching up on work).  he stood there, staring at me, not saying a word.  this was the scene:

me: hey sweetheart.  do you need something?

liam says nothing.

me: are you thirsty?  did you come downstairs for some water, maybe?

liam slowly nods.

me: well, let's go into the kitchen and get you a cup.

liam immediately turns on his heel and walks to the kitchen.  and then keeps walking to the breakfast room, where he sits down at his chair, puts his head on the table, and closes his eyes.

now, i'm sure you've concluded by now that he's sleepwalking.  but admit it -- i kind of helped you get there with the title and vocabulary lesson.  because, i'm embarrassed to say, it took us a full month to come to that conclusion ourselves.  we just thought he was a little sleepy, maybe a little lonely, and sought us out for comfort.  it dawned on us only recently that he is, in fact, sleepwalking.  (and this was only because we realized that he never has any recollection of his escapades the next morning.)

once we arrived at our brilliant diagnosis, some internet research was conducted (of course).  turns out 15% of children sleepwalk and grow out of it, but while they're doing it, there is no cure.  the sites we read simply recommend making sure there are no dangerous objects in the child's path and that, if he's inclined to reach the front door of the house, that it's locked.  done.  i pointed out to chris (who is, for once, freaking out about something more than i am) that the most dangerous object in his path is the flight of stairs, and he seems to navigate that just fine.  thank goodness.

still, we're putting a bell around his doorknob to alert us whenever he decides to venture forth.  and on the nights we're gone, i've made our babysitter aware that it's very likely that around 9:30, she might look up to find a disheveled, very confused, half-asleep boy a few feet away from her.  i suppose if it continues, we'll talk to our pediatrician, just to cover our bases.

but for now, we'll continue to fill him in the following morning of his antics the previous night -- which is always good for a giggle. and just add it to the ever-growing list of Slightly Crazy Things Our Children Do.

somnambulism.  there's a vocabulary lesson for you.  and you thought this blog was only for anecdotes about our family? you just never know what you're going to get when you come here.