Do You Suppose?

If I asked God real nice like, do you suppose he would allow me to stop dreaming about things I don't want to dream about at night? Do you suppose there might be a list I could submit names of people I do not want to dream about and God will just put up a firewall in my brain or a spy ware program to keep them out? I think it is worth a shot...

In crafty news, I finished the turtle I was crocheting, and I attached a blankie to him. He is going to be a snuggle buddy for a little boy. The blankie only has nine rows of double crochet right now, but he is coming along so quickly. I can't tell you how excited I am about this little guy. Actually, he is not a little guy at all. He is a giant turtle, life size actually. He is so soft and fuzzy. My fiance thinks I should make one for him. HA! Do you think he has deep rooted issues in his early childhood years and that is what makes him regress there so often? I do literally mean so often, but I guess it is a quirk I love...sometimes...Sometimes it is a quirk I want to kick out of him.

I have put a hold on my own personal afghan, but I only have 1 and 1/2 more squares to make. Then I get to whip stitch them all together and put the border on them! It is going to be so pretty. It is also giving me tons of ideas about other stuff I want to crochet.

I do have a question, though. I need your opinions, and I need to spill my guts about what a jerk I have been my whole entire life! My Grandma's birthday is the 15th of this month. I got to thinking about it, and I don't believe I have ever gotten my Grandma anything for her birthday, let alone called to say "Happy Birthday, Grandma. I love you!" My whole life, my Grandma and I have not been very close, but I do feel sad for her. She is widowed now, and I live just a block away from her. Yet I rarely see her. She doesn't drive, either. So, I was thinking that for her birthday, I should go pick her and her little dog (Sammy) up and bring them back to my place, cook her a meal, and hang out with her. I would love to make her something, but I only have about a week to have something made. I do work the day of her birthday, but I am off work the day before. I could just pick her up and make a "day" of it on the 14th.

Now for all you other crafties out there, is there a quick simple project I could make my Grandma, whom is also a crocheter and has plenty of afghans? Also, is this something that Grandma's would like, having one of their grand kids come pick them up and cook for them?

Dream Therapist

I wish I knew a dream therapist. I will recap my dream for you from last night/this morning.


I dreamt I was living in a huge, old Victorian house with my mom and my younger brother. I think my fiance and older brother lived there as well. My cat I own now lived there as well as the cats we had in my childhood. My late childhood dog lived there as well, and there were two new dogs there. (I have much attention to detail, as you can tell.) All of the animals were hanging out in the basement. (I use that term "hanging out" because no one was forcing them to be there. They all just congregated there.) My mom was washing dishes, and there was a big window in front of the sink for her to look out of. I don't remember seeing anything out of the window. I was seven months pregnant and completely obsessed with touching my belly to make sure my baby was still in there. I remember he felt tiny.


I walked into the big living room. I don't remember seeing furniture. I just walked over to the window, a big open window, and looking out. When I looked out, I was shocked to see water all the way up to the bottom of the window. The window was somewhere around 7-10 feet up. I panicked a little bit and jogged back to the kitchen. The kitchen was the other side of the house, and I actually looked through the window and saw water all the way up to the window sill on this side of the house as well. I really started to panic at this point. I yelled for my older brother, and he came to look. When I asked my mom what we should do, she told me to go start opening all the windows. I was completely dumbfounded. I was about to say to her, "If I open all the windows, all the water will come inside. Why would I open all the windows?!" I didn't get a chance to say anything, though because out of the corner of my eye, I saw a giant wave getting ready to crash into the house. I didn't even move. I just watched it come barreling in and shake the house to its core.


After that, my mom turned around and continued doing dishes as if she was completely oblivious to the fact that these waves were about to make this entire situation very dangerous. From there on, the waves started to hit the house on each side in succession. Hit the front...hit the back..., and the house started to rock. I could literally feel being swayed back and forth as the house rocked. I yelled out, "The house is going to crumble!" My mom looked at me, and it finally clicked with her that this was dangerous. Right at that moment, the back right corner of the house cracked, and we knew the foundation had been ripped out. All of a sudden, we all knew instinctively what we had to do. My mom yelled jump just as the last wave hit the back side of the house, and we all jumped out the back door. Suddenly, as we jumped out and all landed on our feet in the yard The house collapsed in on itself but only in the middle. It was a giant house. There were three sections, like a castle almost, but it was all made out of wood. It was so old and Victorian. The shutters were a beautiful pastel green.


As soon as the house crumbled, I yelled, "Chloe!" (Chloe was the dog we had in my late childhood. We had to get rid of her after Mom died.)All the animals had been in the basement, but miraculously, they made it out alive, as only animals could. My mom, my older brother M, and I were standing in the back yard, and it was completely soaked. We were in shock, and there were hundreds of bystanders watching in horror.


None of the rest of the town was flooded.


No one else's house was ruined.


I looked around, and my younger brother was standing in the front yard staring at the house with his mouth hanging open. The middle of the house laid flat, and he could see us from the front yard. The water was gone.


I was completely confused. All I could think about was all the stuff that had been in the house. All of everything I owned had been in the part that collapsed. I started to wonder if we would be able to salvage anything, if we could just remove the debris carefully enough to salvage everything I owned.


I remember wondering what was going to happen to me and my baby now that we had nothing.


Then I woke up, completely confused.

Baby Dreams

Last night, I had one of those dreams. In my dream, I had gone from being very pregnant to having the baby in a school to living in what seemed like a prison with all of my *dream world* family. Here is how this all played out, as I remember it anyway.

I was walking around very pregnant, huge belly. Then, all of a sudden, I was confused. I could not remember how far along I was, and as I was trying to calculate in my head how long it had been, my water broke. That was so vivid. It felt like I had just peed my pants. (I'm lucky I didn't really pee my pants, as I have dreamt before of peeing and peed in the middle of the night.) I wasn't in any pain, though. I was just terrified of what was to come. (I'm assuming I wasn't in any pain because in real life, I have never had children, so I wouldn't know how the pain felt to dream about it.) Anyway, I end up having the baby right where I was, in a huge college that was all new, clean, lots of windows, very modern looking. After having the baby, it was as if I suffered amnesia. I didn't remember having the baby or any events surround its birth.

Later that night, I went to bed in what seemed like a cell. Every room was a relatively small brick room, and the doors locked from the inside. No one could come in from the outside unless you had let them in. I don't remember what my room had looked like, and I didn't have my baby with me. I just went to sleep. I knew Big T was supposed to have the baby, though, and before I dozed off to sleep, I remember being scared he would roll over on the baby or let the baby roll off the bed.

The next morning, I woke up, and went straight to a room I knew my baby would be in. He was being taken care of by my mother in law *the dream world mother in law*, and I remember feeling shocked that she had taken care of him all night and allowed me to sleep instead of waking me up. She buzzed me into her room, and I took my baby and held him for the first time. He was so long and chubby, as if he were months old already. His hair was blond and his eyes were blue, and I remember feeling kind of sad that he didn't have red hair like me. He was so beautiful, though, so healthy and smiley. His skin was so soft, and his cheeks were so round. He looked at me as if he knew I was his mommy, and I could not get enough of having him in my arms.

I didn't see Big T in that dream after that. My dream world family and I were going to go out and walk around, enjoy the fresh air. I hadn't named my baby yet because I had loved the name Mason, but it didn't seem right for this baby. We just kept looking around aimlessly for things that would be the perfect name for this wonderful baby. However, my dream world family was all Hispanic. My husband was a Mexican boy I had gone to school with. His parents *in my dream* were so excited and enthusiastic about helping with the name, but I didn't like anything they chose. They never got offended, though. They just kept trying. The whole time, I was just thinking that there had to be some way I could include the baby's *fake* Hispanic heritage in his name. I was trying to ask them if there were some Spanish word I could name my baby. (I think this might have come from my sister's baby name. It is the Spanish word for table, but it's awesome as a name.)

All the while, none of my real life family is there, but a family friend, Desiree is there walking with us. Her sister, Dusti showed up on her bike, too. We had to chase her down, though, because she couldn't hear us when we were trying to yell to her. She had missed us and was riding right by us. I don't remember if we ever caught up to her. (That is probably reflecting the fact that the last time we really talked, we got in an argument, and I haven't talked to her in about two or three weeks. I've been wondering lately if that is how a friendship will end, over something petty.) Anyway, the whole group is walking, and we end up in this run down shack looking for something that is going to lead us to the baby's name. It's really a disgusting place, rats and garbage. All of a sudden, though, I turn around and see a bag lodged between the crack in the wall that says Italy on it. It is as if everything else around me disappears in that moment, and I knew Italy was my baby's name. It was perfect for him because it displayed how beautiful I thought he was and how much my heart longed for him. I had decided that even though it was a completely out of the ordinary name, his nickname could be Itty.

After that, the whole family agreed, as if they had a choice in it anyway. We left the nasty little shack and began walking back home. I remember looking down at my baby, and I was going to tickle him but my hair had brushed across his face. He had just laughed and giggled. I kept doing it because his little giggle was the best sound in the world. At that moment, though, I suddenly realized I had no pictures of my entire pregnancy, no camera footage of the labor and delivery, and I had not even taken pictures of my precious baby to send to my real family. He was already days old, and no one would get to see what he looked like as a new born.

That is all I remember from my dream, but the love I felt for that baby, for my baby, was so strong. It was like a magnetic pull. I needed to be wherever he was.

Oh yeah! I do remember one other insignificant fact. When we got back to our prison like home, I started wondering about when the baby had eaten because I had planned on breastfeeding my baby. I knew I hadn't done that, so I was worried if he had already had a bottle, he wouldn't take to breastfeeding. That was the last thing I thought before the dream ended.

I have some ideas about the analysis of this dream, but I would really enjoy hearing all of your comments about it. Maybe you can help me reveal something I hadn't seen. If not, I hope you at least enjoyed the Soap Opera that is my dream.

Disappointments Continued

I have decided to continue this blog so it makes sense to others (namely, my sister). Yesterday, I had just realized that the week was full of disappointments. My birthday had completely sucked, the house had gotten to be a complete mess. I had to turn it into b*tch mode to get anything done. My homework schedule did not work out how I planned it would, and it wasn't just a little glitch. I pretty much didn't get any homework done on one of the days I had planned to get four hours worth of homework done. I did have to do homework this weekend. I have been badly broke for going on two months now.

I have no money to pay the electric bill or water bill that are due this week, and that is not even a result of me going out and spending money we don't have. I have been making my own coffee at home instead of buying overpriced coffee shop coffee. I have not been making extra trips I couldn't afford. I have been telling my friends I can't go out to dinner because we have nothing. I have turned down so many friends, even friends that wanted to do something for my birthday. I would assume that if you wanted to take someone out for their birthday, you would offer to pay for their movie and lunch when they couldn't, but that is simply what I would do. I would do it without making that friend feel like a burden, either!

Yesterday, my younger brothers had pushed my buttons too far. He knew it was our niece and nephew's birthday party, and he said that he would have to get a ride to town and if he got a ride to town, he would prefer to go watch a movie with his girlfriend. This is not something I would not expect from a sixteen year old boy. However, he had already asked if he could just stay at my house because his girlfriend's parents did not want to take him back home, ten miles away, at night. I told him I was sick of my house being the fallback. It is one thing if you are in need of some family time, but when my house becomes the waiting area or fallback house and you don't help pay bills or for groceries, it is going to send me over the edge a little. He had already been here for about a week just two or three days earlier. He had been here the day before and left pop cans on my living room floor and a blanket out in my living room. He knows how anal I am about things getting back in their spots, and he knows you don't just get to come to my house and leave your mess.

On top of all that, I am sick of people using my stuff! My knitting looms, my yarn, my utensils, and leaving them wherever they want to. I have a case for that stuff, a special one my sister got me. Sometimes I think she is the only one who truly knows what makes me tick and actually cares enough not to make me flip out! That shouldn't even come as a surprise. My younger brother did buy his own knitting looms and yarn, and I shouldn't fail to mention that he made me breakfast and coffee on my birthday. I think in a way, it made me more sad. It was so nice of him to day, and it was a good breakfast. I experienced a very strange emotion, though, as I walked out of my bedroom and he said, "Oh, you ruined it. I was going to bring you this breakfast in bed." He had the plate and cup in his hand, and I was instantly taken back to when I was little and Mom would wake up to early and we would say the same thing to her. It was strange to be the one getting breakfast "in bed."

I haven't dreamt about my mom in months, either. However, in the last three days, I have dreamt about her three times. Last night, I dreamt about her, and in my dream, we still lived in my childhood home. She had left for Kentucky in the morning and was supposed to be home that evening. She didn't come home that night, though. The next day, she still wasn't home, so I called her friend to ask what had happened. She said my mom had been suffering from hallucinations and had been saying she could see a man when there wasn't one there. In my dream, my sister had also been suffering from these hallucinations, the same ones. It was very strange. My mom came home later that day, and all of a sudden, I ran to her histerically crying. I hugged her and told her I had been so worried when she didn't come home.

In my dream the night before, my mom was alive and had not ever been dead. She moved us back to our house in the small town I grew up in, but she had moved without me helping her. When I came home, she had given my little brother my room, and I was expected to use the bathroom as my bedroom. My bed was where the tub should have been, but the sink and toilet were in the same spot. The bathroom was still the same awful coral green. Nothing had changed about it, but I could not understand why she would put me in there. She was acting like it was some sort of punishment, and I just felt so hurt.

Anyway, I hope that I can dream about my mom as she is now, in Heaven. I hope we can talk and I can hug her and kiss her. I hate dreaming that she is still alive but something tragic has happened to her or that she is still alive and so disappointed in me that we can't have a relationship. What do you think that is saying? Have I not really accepted the fact that she is gone? Is there a missing link somewhere that I am not seeing? Is she trying to tell me something?