Have you ever wondered what babies dream about? I have. But how could Julianna, at 2 1/2 years old possibly understand, let along describe, her dreams? But this morning, she did just that. When I went in to get her out of bed, she told me that she tried to cover her "Huggy Buggy" (a stuffed purple butterfly) with her pink blanket but it was lost outside her crib.* But that she then found it and put it back in her bed and covered it up. It took me a minute to realize that she was telling me about something she dreamed. (She can't get out of her crib and even if somehow she did, she couldn't get back in. She's tried.) It was so matter of fact, the way she said it. Her little brain doesn't know real from dreams. To her, Huggy Buggy was lost and then found. Oh, to have baby dreams. So simple and harmless. Meaning nothing more than a lost toy. Not like the dream I had last night about a Greek god-like giant with a whip turning everything around me to stone. Weird. I know. And I don't even want to know what it means. It can't be good.
*Yes, my daughter still sleeps in a crib even though she's old enough to be in her big girl bed. I know it's time, but I think I'm fighting with the idea of my last baby turning into a big girl. Maybe soon she'll move into her lovely, handmade big girl bed. Maybe not.