Colorful Dreams

OK, I finally dreamed about the upcoming babyfest -- all night long. One thing about pregnancy for me is that my dreams tend to be emotionally charged, and I sometimes wake up trembling with rage or fear after dreams in which I am sobbing. Last night there were two dreams that I remember: In one I angrily confronted my mother because she had -- without consulting me -- invited someone else to be present for the birth. She thought I needed one more team member, to stay at the end of the bed and let us know when the baby was coming (so, uh, what would the midwife do then?) The most hilarious part about this is that she chose my Uncle Bob for this task. Uncle Bob is a plumber, dad to my childhood best friend, and as both my mom and husband pointed out, "a nurturing person." But childbirth coach? I certainly never thought of him that way.

In the second dream, Filbertine was born and my parents told me they had no time to make the less-than-100-mile trip from Kenosha to Chicago to meet her. My dad reminded me on the phone that since my parents are now businesspeople, they don't get paid time off. This is equally outlandish as the first dream, since although my parents are busy they have a flexible schedule, frequently come down here to help with Nutmeg, and and planning to care for Nutmeg while we're in the hospital.

Finally, a brag: Today at "school" (art class at a public elementary) Nutmeg mixed three colors of paint to create brown. When the teacher asked her how she did that, she nonchalantly said, "I put in some red, some blue, and a little yellow." The teacher said, "I have eighth-graders who still haven't gotten that concept."