I have always had vivid dreams. They are not more so now, but take on new themes. They are about two things:
1. The excitement of meeting my children and finally becoming a mother
2. What a horrible and ill prepared mother I am
I've been calling them "bad Mommy" dreams.
The wierd thing is I feel confident during the day that I will be a wonderful mother and think that I am more prepared that most. So why do I keep having these dreams? I don't really mind because of the first theme makes the dream enjoyable no matter what.
The latest one is very, very obvious in its meaning and I'm pretty sure I've had it multiple times. I have this wierd sense of deja vu that this may be a very old dream that I've had for some time. In the dream I am happily pregnant, but my belly isn't getting any bigger and I grow very concerned. In fact, it is barely rounded like it would be in month 4. But everyone is telling me I'm due very soon. I keep worrying that something is wrong because I'm so small, or that I'm really not pregnant and I made it all up or someone else is lying to me. Ultimately I think this dream symbolizes my desire to be a parent and my fear that it really isn't happening. That makes a lot of sense. But as we are in week 27 now I am relaxing more and more that it will happen...so we'll see if this dream goes away.
Lately I've had two more dreams and they involve cases of very bad packing. The one I recall most involved tremendous excitement because I was at the airport ready to go to India to get my babies. It was more like a baby shower because my entire family was there at the gate with me with balloons and streamers and signs wishing me well. For some reason hubby wasn't there and I was going all by myself. I was trying to bring very large toys with me instead of things I could actually use. I was struggling to bring as a carry on a huge, gangly, and of course very colorful Fisher Price light up toy that you are supposed to use when they are learning to stand up.
In another I arrive in India and open my suitcase to realize that for 6 weeks I only packed about 3 mismatched outfits. Even my sarees don't have matching cholis, or any choli to speak of. (The top part) But I am mostly disappointed in myself because I have packed NOTHING for the babies. Tons of empty space but no formula or onesies or diapers or anything at all!
But perhaps the funniest part of the airport dream is when I decide to go to the ladies room before I get on my flight. When I walk in who do I see but Bobby Flay in the flesh grilling steaks over open flame. He has a very busy looking sous chef alongside him. Bobby offers me the biggest, juiciest porterhouse steak I have ever seen. It was so juicy it was dripping, and it already had a few slices cut to show me that it was cooked as perfectly as a steak could ever be cooked.
Airport bathroom or not, if Bobby Flay offers you a steak...you eat it. Right as I was about to take a bite, the phone rings. I woke up very angry because the fork was an inch from my mouth. It was my mother calling to chat, and she apologized for ruining my steak fantasy. I'm pretty sure the steak part has nothing to do with my children or being a mother, and just has to do with the fact that I'm from Texas and LOVE steak.
At my church women's group the other day several of the ladies were bragging on how wonderful their children were. I decided to brag on mine and tell everyone that they are now 2 lbs each and can suck their thumbs and blink their eyes. I'm so proud!