Before both boys have come, I had dreams about them. I haven’t dreamed about kids since I dreamed about getting a two year old boy (less than 24 hours later, we had Simeon).
I had a dream last night. It was night-time and cold. Leo was watching Simeon, my parents were watching Reuben (he looked good. I miss him), and I was driving home in my brother’s ridiculously big truck. Just as I came around a corner I saw a little boy standing in the middle of the street. I slowed down and when I got to him, he reached up and said “mama!” Oh, no I thought! It was pitch black dark and no one was around. I needed to find this boy some help. I drove him to the nearest lit building (an Indian restaurant) where my sister-in-law, Joy was learning Hindi dancing (I watched a documentary on out-sourcing yesterday). I called her out of class to watch this boy while I went to find help. Surprise, surprise, there was no help to be found and I had to take him home.
I fully admit that it could be something I ate. Or that we are going out of town for the weekend and I feel guilty that we won’t be available for emergency placements when it would be the worst time to be taken away from family (or perhaps the best…). Still, there’s the fact that last week I dreamed of new rooms in the house (also preceeding the boys arrivals).
Tonight we have the brothers and sisters coming over for the most fun night of the year…. Sibling Nite (N-I-T-E means it’s gonna be awesome) where we eat junk food, watch movies, have a huge sleepover and play football in the morning. Tomorrow we drive hours south to my parents place. Friday we have tickets to the symphony we’ve been looking forward to for MONTHS.
And yet, still in the dark of morning, I found myself staring at the ceiling imagining what I will tell the case worker when she called and where I will put a new child to bed.