Have you ever had a dream so vivid you thought it was real?

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Long headline, but real question. Have you ever had a dream so vivid you thought it was real? I swear I have so many, but there are few that I really remember well past waking up and even days, weeks, years later.

The first one I really remember was from when I was a kid, maybe 7. I was at a neighbor’s house, and it was on fire. I was terrified as the fire engulfed the house, but I knew my sister was in it and needed help getting out. I found her and pulled my sister out of the fire, but was struggling to get far enough away from the flames. Even in my dream, I was breathing hard and freaking out, but I remembered my mom told me that if you pinch yourself in your dream, and it doesn’t hurt, then you know you’re dreaming. I pinched myself, realized it didn’t hurt which calmed me somewhat, and I kept pulling my sister out. To this day I remember that dream and how real it felt until I pinched myself.

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more recent dream was a few nights ago. My husband and I were at some fancy hotel, I think in Las Vegas or New York. There were two twin beds, so we slept separately. I awoke from one of the beds at the start of the dream and felt burning itchy all over my body, but especially my legs. I threw the blanket off me and was covered in small red dots. I looked down at the mattress and tiny little beg bugs were crawling everywhere! I jumped from the bed and couldn’t figure out where they were coming from until I lifted the mattress skirt and a swarm of the bugs scattered everywhere! I woke up itching.

All this to say, I think my subconscious needs to calm down! I know my brain is just processing some information or event that I experienced, trying to get it to make sense, but come on! Still experiencing those feelings even after I’m awake is no fun. I bet I would be a good sleep study experiment, though. Maybe if my day job fails.

To Nap or Not to Nap?

All is quiet in the Chamberlin household at the moment. Naptime has set over its tenants, and they sleep blissfully in peace as their bodies recoup from an adventure to the ever treacherous mall. A baby girl, no more than a year, sleeps soundly in her crib with white noise playing overhead. A young man, the father of the babe, curls into the sheets, cocooning himself in their warmth as he settles further into unconsciousness. All is quiet and subdued in this home, except for one.

Have you ever heard the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears? story_goldilocks1Assuming you have, it is a running joke among mothers who empathize with Mother Bear and her cold porridge, reasoning that mothers must do for all others in the household before taking care of themselves. I just saw a meme this morning about a wife asking her husband to take care of something and his response was that he had to go to the bathroom, so she did it herself.

My point is not to bash my husband or others, fathers, or men in general. I’m simply contemplating the fact that even though I could use the nap as well, and even though I currently have a million things running through my head that need to be done in order to keep the house clean, its occupants clothed, and a list of necessary items to be purchased in order to get us through the week, why I don’t just put it off for a few hours and sleep? Is anything that I am thinking or doing so urgent that it can’t wait while I lay my head down for a much needed siesta?

In all reality I can answer that question very easily. Yes, all of it can wait, but can I choose to put it off? No. Maybe it is my over-achieving personality, or maybe I’m just too stubborn to think that what I do isn’t so dire that it can wait a few hours, but for whatever reason, in my mind, these things need to get done.

So here I am, writing a blog post about how much I want to sleep rather than actually doing it because I believe posting is more important than sleep. Just like half an hour ago when I was cleaning my kitchen because I couldn’t stand to look at it in disarray any longer rather than sleeping. Just like an hour before that I loaded and unloaded the dishwasher and put away my daughter’s clean clothes rather than closing my eyes for a bit.

With all of these more important items to do than doing what I actually want to, I am starting to believe that maybe we mothers shouldn’t sympathize Mother Bear and her cold porridge, but should try to emulate Father Bear. Maybe instead we should force ourselves to realize that we are our own worst enemies. The laundry can wait; the dishes, too. Instead of thinking of all the things we deem too important to put on the back burner should come before ourselves, maybe we should put them where they belong. Let them simmer at the back of the stove and come back to them when we have taken care of ourselves. Maybe we should take a page out of a man’s book and put ourselves first because I promise it will all be there when you wake up.

Here are my little sleep deprived thoughts for the weekend. I believe I have about half an hour before my daughter and husband wake up from their nap, so maybe I should close my eyes for a quick catnap. Just a brief brush with oblivion to help me get through the rest of the day to complete more tasks from my list.

Nah, I think I’ll get back to it.