Sunday, September 17, 2006

dreams and "lala land"

The photo op of the day involves a ridiculously feminine outfit and a beautifully girly handmade quilt that was a gift from Granddaddy's pal Martha. I meant to link to her eBay store, but can't find her card, so I'll edit later if I come across it. (*edit: this is her ebay store: )


We'll say my day started at 4:00 a.m. when Molly needed to nurse for the first time since bedtime. I went to cuddle up with her in her nursery and it seemed like we'd nursed solid when Shane's alarm went off at 6:30 or 7, but I'm sure we fell asleep at some point. I was bleary groggy sleepy and my back was creaky so I told him to take the car to work (he's landscaping on the weekends for a friend. Yay cash) and Molly and I would skip church.

I put her in her swing and retreated to the grown-up bedroom for the comfort of the Suz Coccoon, another famous handmade quilt. I drifted, and had a dream within a dream within a dream. I do that pretty often. They're usually very vivid (the "core" dream) and often seem hallucinatory or something. Sometimes in the next part, where I think I've awoken , I actually interpret the previous dream in that dream. Boggles the mind, no? This morning I dreamt I had, or actually did have?, an out-of-body trip, then a nightmarish hallucination-in-a-dream of nearly drowning. It was so super-sensory. Cold, turquiose and indigo waters rising up like a wall on either side of me, and me pinned up against the ceiling. I could examine in detail the crisp white spackled plaster on the ceiling, and I knew it wasn't real but was panicky. Then I "woke up" and told Shane about it, asking for comfort. He reassured me, and I dreamt some mundane things, then awoke for real feeling super disoriented and hung-over. The astral projectrion deal was simple and weird, vague. The part I remember was walking calmly back into the bedroom and seeing myself there, wondering how to realign the spirit and body, then the bed appeared empty and I just lay down and that was the way back "in."

The water dream was so powerful and surreal. Frightening but much preferable to the nightmare I had the night before of Molly suffocating. Someone in the dream had given her a plastic bag to play with. Remembering that makes me shudder. I hate my nightmares. I've had them continuously since my night terrors as a toddler. I remember begging to sleep with Mom and Dad and not being allowed. I'd camp out on the floor outside their room or when I was older, on the couch within view of their bedroom door. That memory makes me adamant that Molly will never have a door closed to her when she's frightened in the night.

We spent the day with Molly's "LaLa," my Mama Janet. She was my mom's best friend and I adore her. She's a round, beautiful, beaming hippy chick. I haven't gotten to visit her since she was my lay-doula at Molly's birth. It was a great time, talking about her daughter's pregnancy- LaLa's first official grandchild- and my mothering and nursing expoeriences. She made me Chai and I nursed the baby for an hour as she's been wont to do lately. I'm so at home with Janet, and when I'm with her I can all but hear Mama laughing with us. It was a content, easy day.

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