Jul 1, 2015

on: dreams

baby boy sleepingbaby boy sleeping

Silence has taken the room captive. It demands the house to forgo its creaking, and the crickets outside to quiet their night's song. Your breathing is steady - in. out. in. out. The sun has begun to rise and peeks through the windows. A slow trickle at first, the light quickly floods into the room. I sit and drink my morning tea just a heartbeat away. A smile quickly flashes across your face. Another follows. And the great crescendo - a full blown giggle.

Since you were born, your father and I have always taken great pleasure in discussing your dreams. Conversations have been dedicated to debates of what goes on in that head of yours while you sleep. 

Are there visions of rooms full of TV remotes that are all within reach?
Or endless breasts from which you can nurse forever?
Do you dream of your dad pushing you on the swing until you fall asleep?
Or am I holding you forever - never letting your sweet feet hit the ground?

I remember vividly my dreams of you when you were still in my belly. Dreams filled with nursing, rocking and kissing your forehead - so sweet that I loathed waking up. Clear visions of you: a baby boy - half mother's intuition and half silly luck. I remember sharing my dreams with your dad; It's a boy. And a few months later my dreams came true - and you were here. The most surprising detail of your arrival being your dense head of hair - not your gender.

Our days are now chock full of real life visions of what once were dreams. Bright happy visions having yielded to happier realities. We nurse, and rock, and I kiss your forehead (tirelessly). My sleep has diminished, but my dreams have exploded. Wakeful dreams fill my head of a future you - and the man you will become.

Your first day of school - your hair gelled back with a small backpack weighing you down.
Or of your first home run - or game winning catch. Or a successful dance recital. Or choir performance.
Dreams of you driving me crazy. Following me around babbling momma repeatedly.
Or of your first girlfriend, or leaving for college, or breaking a bone and getting a cast.

And just as your dreams now are a total mystery to me, so are your future ones. Will you live for the challenge of school? Or will you have your head up in the clouds? Will you go on to become an archaeologist? A dentist? A postman? The man who fixes traffic lights? While I can (and may) dedicate hours to wondering about the future you, all of your aspirations will be perfect to me. And your dreams, will be my own.

Here's to discovering them, my dear. And working towards them together.
Never stop dreaming baby.

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