Posted in Blogging, Dreams, fun, funny, humor, Life, living, Musings, People, random

Bad Dreams in a Cold House

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photo courtesy of memecrunch.com- not an actual photo of me.

 

I’m sitting here at my desk this morning, bundled up as if I were about to venture out into a hip-high snow drift (is that even a thing, a hip-high snow drift? I live in coastal California, I don’t know if that was right.) Anyway, you get the picture. Beanie, hoodie, jacket, leggings, fuzzy socks and Ugg boots. So where am I going, you wonder? Abso-freaking-lutely nowhere, that’s where I’m going. My thermostat is pushed over to 80, but the temperature in here won’t move even to 60, and the floors feel like ice. Sigh. It’s just an old house, with no insulation, single pane windows, and mysterious breezes blowing in all over the place.

Lucky for me, we get maybe a month of really cold nights a year- that’s what I keep telling myself anyway. To be honest, I can’t ever remember stuff like that, but it’s got to be in that general amount of time. And I know, I know- this is the girl that wants to move to the east coast, she can’t even handle a morning where the outside temp is 39 degrees (it is, I just checked). Well, again- this is California. I am never expecting to be this cold. Especially INSIDE my own house. There are certain things I feel I deserve in life, in return for working diligently and paying all my bills on time. One of them is not to freeze to death indoors. I don’t think that’s asking too too much. If and when I do move to the east coast, you can bet your ass I’m going to ask about insulation, dual pane windows, if the heater works, how drafty the house is, and whether or not the fireplace works. Oh, and maybe get someone to show me how to use a fireplace. That would be a good skill to have.

Anyway, I’m not sure if it was the cold house that caused my entire-night long bad dream last night or what, but it was really, really bad. It wasn’t a nightmare as in “monsters chasing me and my legs won’t run”, it was more typical of my normal sad, stressful, awful dreams. I get those fairly often. The main difference in this one was a.) the subject, and b.) the sheer scope of it. It was about my mom, and I don’t even want to say out loud exactly what it was, but it was terrible. I will be calling her as soon as it is a decent hour, rest assured. This dream was so long. I even woke up for like 20 minutes to escape it, and when I went back to sleep, it kept freaking going. I couldn’t stop it.

You know, it also might be the nicotine patch. I didn’t think about that. They always give me really vivid, crazy dreams. I bet that’s what it was. I could choose not to sleep with it on, but then I wake up in full nic withdrawal, and no one wants to see that. I haven’t smoked since the New Year started, not that it’s even a big deal when I quit anymore- it’s not even a big deal to me. The main difference is, this time the ONLY nicotine I am getting is from the patch. No other avenues. I had to give up chewing, too. Just kidding! I have never used chewing tobacco. Hahaha! I was vaping with a low nicotine vape but I feel like it’s just as bad as smoking, so. No more.

Before I go, I want to mention this- yesterday was my best day ever for views. EVER, in six years of blogging! I have had so many new followers this week, and I have been trying to engage more and be a faithful reader. I just want to say thanks to everyone who stops by. Trust me, I will slow down soon and post a more reasonable amount. This is just the frenetic energy of the fresh, sparkly new year leaving through my fingertips. I especially want to thank Paul at Captains Speech for his New Years Day post that kinda got the ball rolling for me. Thanks, man! (I did it, I did it! I posted a link!)

Have the best weekend EVER! And try to stay warm. Unlike me.

Posted in escape, family, kids, Life, love, parenting, People, random, relationships, Uncategorized

Bad Dreams

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Occasionally, over the past few months, and every night, for the past few nights, I have been having terrible dreams. They are all slightly different versions of the same dream, actually…if you are a mother, I would be willing to bet you have had them yourself. In this dream, my youngest daughter has gone missing. She is gone without a trace. I am searching for her frantically, and no one seems to be nearly as concerned as they should be. I find myself unable to trust anyone because no one has any idea what has happened to her, so it could be anyone. Not last night, but the night before, the last part of the dream consisted of me sitting in a car with her father. I looked at him, in so much emotional pain that I could barely remain in my skin, and I asked him “do you think she is still alive?”. I woke up before he could answer me.

The weird thing about this dream is that, usually, we find her again. It is always three days that she is missing, and when she shows up, she can’t tell us anything about where she has been or who she has been with. Last night, when I tried to question her about who had taken her, she just fell apart crying, and I couldn’t bring myself to ask anything more. Also odd is that, despite my relief at having her back, those three days that I lose are maddening for me. I cannot bear not knowing what happened to my child. The dreams are very disturbing and awful. I have no idea why I am having them, or what I can do.

Camryn is a whirlwind of a child. She has more energy coursing through her than three average three year olds put together. Spending long periods of time with her can be…challenging, to say the least. She is never quiet. She is never still. She is ALWAYS getting into things she shouldn’t be,  “experimenting” with my favorite earrings, pouring milk in her kaleidoscope, decorating my books with her drawings. When I scold her, she asks me “Do you still love me, mommy?” and I tell her that there is NOTHING she could do that would ever make me stop loving her. There is nothing.

Her mind is as busy as her body. She has hundreds of questions, every hour of every day, ranging from “Do rhino’s get lonely?”  to “why do people speak Spanish?” to “Why does that lady have a little girl, too?”. I don’t always have answers for her. But sometimes, I don’t WANT to answer her. To be honest with you, sometimes, I just want her to stop bugging me. I have a lot going on in my head, too, and it’s hard when you can’t sort anything out because your kid NEVER STOPS TALKING. EVER.

I am impatient. I am snippy and short and sometimes meaner than I ought to be, especially when I have too much to deal with at once, or I have been too long between stretches of quiet. I forget to play, sometimes, and I definitely forget that, when it comes down to it, I am dealing with a beautiful, perfect, happy, wonder of a child. A child who says “This water feels WONDERFUL.” When she is in the bath, and asks me “Wanna snugga bugga?” (cuddle) when she crawls in bed with me. The same kid who painted all my spare change with nail polish is also the kid who won’t let me say a harsh word against her sister, thinks her dad and I are “so beautiful” and asks for a hug when she gets in trouble. 

Maybe these dreams are supposed to remind me to be infinitely grateful for my perfect, healthy, gorgeous children. Because I tell you what- when I wake up, night after night having these dreams, the first thing I do is reach for that little girl. I hug her and kiss her little arms, and I am still terrified, but I am so relieved. And every day, I try to remember to be better. I don’t always succeed, that’s for sure. But I do try. Today I am going to try even harder. Because I love that girl. Both of my girls. And also, I need to get some damn sleep.