|Basement Jaxx music vid: Where's Your Head at?|
And I can't blame it on being preggers anymore. It's just plain old crazy me.
I was plugged into baby girl, snoozing in and out of sleep - so maybe that was playing havoc with my subconscious state.
Whatever. My head was already banging and my tummy was objecting heavily to the Taste of China we'd indulged in last night - please Lord, save me from Texan buffets! All that deep fried yumminess is STILL repeating on me as I type!
"You nas-tee, Momma!" Poor Daddy can't hold a torch to Momma's raunchy belches.
(*Sigh). I even fell asleep before 9:00pm last night, while nursing baby girl. How was this pseudo hangover fair?
In truth, there had been a midnight 'pee' interlude, which evolved into a bit of 'spoon full of sugar' action after I'd caught sight of the kitchen mess that should have been put to bed after the kids.
Broken sleep sucks! But still, a cumulative 8 hours sleep, sharing a bed with a 13 week old, ain't half bad Momma.
The boys settled down on the carpet in front of Rosita Fresita (a bit of Spanish Strawberry Shortcake), and Daddy laid down beside the two leading ladies in his life.
"How you feeling this morning, Momma?" Daddy asked.
I so hate to disappoint him by moaning first thing. Instead I decided to share my dream:
(Somehow I know it started much earlier - and finished long afterwards - but I only remembered this part):
I was in a schoolyard (or it could have been a prison yard). It was someplace outside, with large gloomy buildings looming over
I pulled it out and nothing happened. Somehow I knew of a person that this had happened to before and I at once found myself with him. He warned me severely that if anything strange happened to go straight to the Docs. Moments later milk started spewing out of the wound. This definitely qualified as strange.
I ran and ran to the Doctors. I knew where to find him. An old man looked up as I appeared and put the girl he was already attending to one side - as if my case were far more urgent.
He took out sharp metal hook, like a dentist's scraping tool, and started to stab my left index fingertip. At first I felt nothing. I looked away and eventually, I felt a single sharp blinding shaft of pain.
When I looked back, the Doctor had torn the end of my finger to pieces. It was like he'd been stabbing a fake Halloween appendage - accept for the one spot. He asked somberly if I had insurance.
He told me I would need hand surgery, and the first operation would be $4,000.
"That's all I remember." I finished lamely.
Daddy looked at me with a baffled expression on his face. Then he smiled.
"I dreamed that Baby [insert newborn's name here] was walking. I watched her take her first steps."
I mean WTF?
"JESUS! What's wrong with me?" I said.
Daddy just laughed at me as he left the room to go pour the coffee.
Seriously, I want to know - if there's a dream reader out there - what IS wrong with me????
So, I was just clearing up the soft toys in the kids' room when I stumbled across our new Woody (remember what happened to the old one....) doll. This version is bigger and stuffed - only, the last time I'd seen this particular toy it was being 'stuffed' somewhere else....
Holy Crapola! A forgotten part of my dream flashed vividly through my mind. Thank God I was neither the stuffer or the stuffee! But OMG - what IS wrong with me?
What did your subconscious get up to last night? Please, help me feel 'normal'. Leave a comment and share your own (crazeee) dream. If you dare......