Dream Drama

Like sleeping isn’t difficult enough with two kicking kids, a cover- hog husband, and a dog that likes to sleep on my head- let’s interrupt the FEW moments of sleep I DO get with INSANE dreams.

My dreams are so vivid I wake up with my heart racing, I’m short of breath, and I absolutely can’t go back to sleep. My LAST dream?

There I am. In my yard. It’s a nice sunny day and Brighton is in his normal perch on the four wheeler growling like a possessed  gremlin (because that’s the noise he makes instead of Vroom Vroom like a NORMAL child). Brooklyn is on the pool deck worrying over putting her floaties on so she doesn’t DIE. (Because she’s convinced that if her very FOOT touches the water without her floaties being securely fastened, she will indeed be swallowed up and drowned in a matter of seconds. I have no idea why. Surely I didn’t scare her to death into believing that nonsense).  And I am standing in my normal position (bent over like a tornadoed pine tree eyeing little ant mounds and throwing poison over them, watching gleefully as the little black biting dots twist into tiny black DEAD dots). I’m wearing shorts and a t-shirt and no shoes. (My stay at home mom uniform). I feel a slight kick in my stomach and look down. A little bulge pokes out. The little alien form isn’t unusual as all of my children like to try to climb out of my gut before their time. But then, a tiny little hand juts out. Actually OUT- like completely in the air waving around- OUT. That’s not the weird part. My reaction is what’s weird.

“AWW! A little hand!” I stick my finger beside the hand and all the fingers grasp it. How adorable. Except for the fact that the hand is just STICKING out of my stomach. And THEN, once the tiny hand gets a grip on my finger it tugs and out emerges an ARM. And then a FACE. Again. NOT the weird part.

“Oh my goodness! It’s a girl! That’s a little girl face!” And I’m scrutinizing the face trying to see if it resembles Brooklyn and Brighton. And then the rest of the baby comes on out and I’m just holding this LITTLE baby. (That’s the part when I should have known it was a dream. Johnson babies are NOT little). So then I start to worry. But not about what you would think. No. I have the baby in both hands and the umbilical cord is still stuck in my stomach like a straw stuck in an orange and suddenly I don’t know how I am going to buckle Brooklyn and Brighton into their car seats AND hold this baby while I DRIVE myself to the hospital. THAT is what I am worried about. So I just walk over to my neighbor’s house and use my foot to kick the door until she opens it. Her face, filled with all the horror that should be expected from someone who comes face to face with a woman holding a naked, slimy baby still attached to her startles me. And THEN, and only then, do I realize how absolutely creepy and grotesque this little occurrence is. And my heart begins to race and my neighbor starts to scream so naturally I start to scream and…

I bolt upright in my bed with a scream stuck in my throat. And I just go ahead and get up because I’m certain the pounding of my heart is going to wake all the inhabitants in my BED. And as I stand up I feel a little kick in my gut. (Remember I am Fourteen weeks- that means I shouldn’t feel kicking yet). I jump out of the bed and realize I can’t RUN from my stomach. So I just give up and watch my stomach move around wondering when a hand is going to jut out and grab my finger. And I guess I fell asleep waiting.

I’m happy to report it never happened. But I’m not convinced yet that it won’t.