January 19, 2015
Before I get into the real reason I’d planned to write this post, I do have to share that I’ve done something that freaks me out just a bit. I’ve secured child care. For September. This terrifies me. One of the things I did just before Sofia died was start lining up child care for when she would have been six months old. And now I’ve paid a registration fee and everything for this baby. But this center seems good. My parents went on the tour with me, and they were pleased, too. My mom was going to be driving by, so she dropped off my deposit and registration form today, after which she called to say that she continues to be impressed. And it’s in the perfect location, easily en route to and from work, close enough that if I’m having a day where I really need to hold my baby, I can. And I’m glad that it’s lined up and done. And the thought of having done it makes me cry.
Now onto (mostly) happier things.
Last week I had several vivid and bizarre dreams. I mentioned one of them in my post on Friday. And I also said that it probably merited a post all its own. Which was my original intention for this post. (The child care thing just happened to happen before I had a chance to write it.)
Dream 1: You know those paintings of the Madonna and Child in which the Christ Child is drawn as an infant but he’s about the size of a two-year-old? I had a dream that that was my baby. That it was ginormous. And I know that’s not the case. But still…
Dream 2: I can’t recall ever having the classic nightmare of getting to class and discovering I’d forgotten to study for the exam. I always have the nightmare that I’ve overslept. I had a particularly disturbing (as I was having it) version of this dream. I couldn’t find two clocks that agreed on the time, so I didn’t even know if I was late or not. The clocks finally seemed to agree that it was 10:30, which made no sense to me because it wasn’t light enough out to be 10:30 am, and I remembered waking up to go to the bathroom at 10:30 pm, so it couldn’t be that time. But maybe it was just incredibly overcast, which meant it really could be 10:30 am, and I should have been at work at least two hours earlier. So I did the only sensible thing. I called my mother and asked her to tell me what time it was. She told me that, she supposed, if I really needed to know what time it was, I could go and buy a clock, a nice analog one with a second hand. It took a bit of arguing, but she finally caught on to the panic in my voice and told me that it was 10:30. And then I woke up. And I told the wee one that that wasn’t particularly worth the additional half hour of sleep it had given me.
Dream 3: I’m finding that how long I’m awake prior to 4:30 affects my fasting blood sugar. If I manage to fall back asleep and wake up around the time that I take the pills for my NVP (at which point I go ahead and take my fasting sugar), my blood sugar is exactly where it should be. If I’ve been lying awake for hours, however, then it’s borderline high. Well, I’d been awake for a few hours and was surprised to see that my blood sugar was good. And then as I climbed back into bed, I realized that, no, I’d definitely been asleep just before getting up. I hadn’t really been living in some weird cross between Lilo & Stitch, Men in Black, and Doctor Who. I can’t say I even remember what all happened in that dream. But I remember that it was a weird mix of those three things. And, yes, really, I didn’t recognize it as having been a dream until I got back into bed.
Dream 4: This is the one you’ve been waiting for. My brother and I were out snowshoeing and came to some stairs. Now, this was no problem for me because I am (at least in my dream) a Master Snowshoer. And apparently so is Matt (who has never gone snowshoeing as far as I know). We climbed those stairs (which were covered in snow) with no problem. Now, of course, if one goes up stairs, at some point one needs to come back down. The stairs going down, however, were indoors and carpeted. But being the Master Snowshoer that I am, I practically ran down those stairs. Matt, on the other hand, opted for a cycling method. Yes, while still wearing his snowshoes. He had this special technique in which he’d just kick the pedals but not leave his feet on them. I still beat him to the bottom. We went out the front door (because that’s where the stairs led) and walked onto the beach. In our snowshoes. We were in some sort of resort town and the most expensive cottages were in the water, sunk about two feet deep. (You know how in Once Upon a Mattress the nobility all live right in the swamp? Apparently only the people who booked early could get the cottages that were right in the water.) What was odd was that all of the cottages seemed to be inhabited by elderly naked women, effectively the Weird Sisters from Roman Polanski’s Macbeth. Except for one young couple (who were fully clothed), and they were rehearsing the party scene from Romeo & Juliet. You know the one. The whole “two pilgrims” section when they first meet. They weren’t very good. Pretty bad, actually. Kind of hard to look away. Matt gave me a hard time about enjoying the performance and then set about catching tadpoles for dinner. (Our snowshoes had disappeared at some point.) Now, I didn’t want to eat tadpoles for dinner, so every time he caught one and handed it to me, I released it back into the water. I especially didn’t want to eat tadpoles when I could see that Kat (yes, Kat, you suddenly appeared in my dream) was clamming. Why on earth would we want tadpoles when we could have clams? And it was about then that I woke up although there might have been a bit more painful performance of Romeo & Juliet before I did…
I should add that it’s been ages since I’ve seen any of the shows/movies/plays that occurred in this dreams. Just your standard weird pregnancy dreams. Gotta love it.