Gone Coastal

Sunday, June 03, 2007

dream time

Well, we ate at a fairly civilized hour tonight - Tweetie a little after six and me and the Bear about an hour later. And a most civilized dinner it was, as well. One of the Bear's favourites, beef medallions with this great balsamic and red onion reduction, with steamed asparagus and a salad. I told you we don't always eat MREs, just more often than we should. But I digress.
As a result I was able to get Tweetie settled toward her bedtime right on schedule, with all the bottles already rinsed and collected and no kitchen collisions.
Ten after nine, Tweetie had drifted off in her crib and I went back downstairs. Fifteen minutes later I heard her crying, and it drift off as it often does. Something was troubling her, likely either gas or her teeth, so I picked her up and took her to the potty. That way she could pee from her bedtime bottle and stay drier the rest of the night, and I could rub her back to help with any gas at the same time. Again, I digress.
She eventually settled again and I put her back down. She went back to sleep, but the first ten minutes were intriguing to witness, as she squirmed and tossed, eyes closed and by all other signs asleep. I could only imagine she was dreaming, and not a pleasant dream. It's one of those unanswerable questions. What do babies dream about? What is a dream like for them? What is thought like when you don't have words? But the heart wrencher for a parent is wondering what could possibly a baby's nightmare?
She's settled right down again now, and I've prayed for her (which at least made me feel better). Some day she'll have words to tell me what her dreams are filled with. Perhaps it was a horrible episode about being attacked by a giant Kleenex, her current nemesis. She was, after all, wrestling vigorously with the extra blanket.



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