Since I like to bring a sense of balance to my blog, I often find myself teetering precariously between posts about horrible admissions of guilt or embarrassment and exciting eureka moments.
So obviously, after the Third Nipple Incident, I owe you something great.
Unfortunately, I have nothing great. But a marginally good idea of something fun to do with your kid, maybe.
And so, I recommend to you: The Dream Project.
Since she could barely talk, Ali has enjoyed telling me about her dreams. And I have had an undying fascination in hearing them, dissecting what she’s saying and picking out familiar common threads that I experience in my own dreams. Themes such as having something in one’s hand and it disappearing, being stuck and not being able to walk or run, flying and other forms of supernatural transportation, being in one’s house but one’s house being a very strange place, and needing to pee, peeing, but still needing to pee.
And, after her recounting of the following particularly entertaining nightmare,
“I dreamed that Miss Laura’s Mommy didn’t have a head and she kept hugging me and wouldn’t stop hugging me and I told her to stop hugging me but she didn’t because she couldn’t hear me because she didn’t have ears because she didn’t have a head!!”
I decided that I needed to record some of these stories – if nothing else, for her own viewing pleasure when she gets older.
So I left my video camera on my dresser for a week. Every morning, I asked Ali what she dreamed about, and she kindly let me record her monologue. Some of the videos are poor quality because she didn’t wait until the lights were on to tell me her dreams. Also, I hope you enjoy the benefit of seeing exactly HOW cluttery we leave our (and especially her) bedroom.
The first conclusion from this experiment is obviously that we watch too many Disney movies.
Second, we don’t change out pajamas very often.
But besides that, I would like to do this once a year, keep all the videos saved together, and then be able to really geek out at analyzing how her subconscious changes over time. Because geeking out over your kid is what motherhood is all about, right?