Dreamland
I am a big advocate for sleeping through the night. If I wake up, it takes hours for me to get back to sleep. My kids and my husband know—don’t wake mom. Layne woke up a few nights ago, crying and crying. Jarom is a heavy sleeper, so if I want the crying to stop I have to take care of it. Usually it goes “you woke me up, you are being too loud. I am tired and going back to bed.” Enough said with Brik, but Layne has a reason. Usually he has wet the bed and can’t find clean underwear –something simple.
“There is a scorpion in my room!”
As my eyes scan the room, I ask “where did you see it?
“I had a dream that a big scorpion was trying to sting me and when I woke up, I saw a scorpion shadow on my blanket.”
I was relieved, well, kinda. Still a bit nervous that a scorpion might be lurking around, I climbed in his bed. We talked about dreams and about learning about scorpions in school. Shame, Mrs. Moore, shame, shame, shame. We talked some more about what to do if he saw a scorpion for real and not just a shadow. About cleaning up his clothes so a scorpion wouldn’t have so many places to hide and closing the door when he goes outside so a scorpion doesn’t get in. (Trying to get a little cooperation out of all of this.)
Fast forward three nights. There I was at the spa (which looked exactly like the showers at LA Fitness) with my friend Melissa. We are having a conversation while she pets the 9 inch scorpion that has climbed onto her shoulder. It was red with some kind of logo stamped on it’s back. I was apprehensive about it, but Melissa pointed out “It hasn’t stung me yet.” DING DONG.
Apparently my dim-witted subconscious that creatively creates my first spa experience setting in my gym’s locker room, can’t figure out how a doorbell plays into the whole scene. Now somewhat conscious, I mumble to my groggy husband “Did I hear the doorbell?” It rings again, followed by very loud knocking. That brave guy marched himself out of bed to get the door while I was trying to comprehend what someone could possibly need so badly at 2 am. I hear Jarom rattling off some police code and it all falls into place. When he forgets to sign off with dispatch they have to contact him to make sure he is safe.
Just keeping with this week’s theme; It Could Have Been A Lot Worse! More on that later.
That's right-- a cliffhanger!
I am a big advocate for sleeping through the night. If I wake up, it takes hours for me to get back to sleep. My kids and my husband know—don’t wake mom. Layne woke up a few nights ago, crying and crying. Jarom is a heavy sleeper, so if I want the crying to stop I have to take care of it. Usually it goes “you woke me up, you are being too loud. I am tired and going back to bed.” Enough said with Brik, but Layne has a reason. Usually he has wet the bed and can’t find clean underwear –something simple.
“There is a scorpion in my room!”
As my eyes scan the room, I ask “where did you see it?
“I had a dream that a big scorpion was trying to sting me and when I woke up, I saw a scorpion shadow on my blanket.”
I was relieved, well, kinda. Still a bit nervous that a scorpion might be lurking around, I climbed in his bed. We talked about dreams and about learning about scorpions in school. Shame, Mrs. Moore, shame, shame, shame. We talked some more about what to do if he saw a scorpion for real and not just a shadow. About cleaning up his clothes so a scorpion wouldn’t have so many places to hide and closing the door when he goes outside so a scorpion doesn’t get in. (Trying to get a little cooperation out of all of this.)
Fast forward three nights. There I was at the spa (which looked exactly like the showers at LA Fitness) with my friend Melissa. We are having a conversation while she pets the 9 inch scorpion that has climbed onto her shoulder. It was red with some kind of logo stamped on it’s back. I was apprehensive about it, but Melissa pointed out “It hasn’t stung me yet.” DING DONG.
Apparently my dim-witted subconscious that creatively creates my first spa experience setting in my gym’s locker room, can’t figure out how a doorbell plays into the whole scene. Now somewhat conscious, I mumble to my groggy husband “Did I hear the doorbell?” It rings again, followed by very loud knocking. That brave guy marched himself out of bed to get the door while I was trying to comprehend what someone could possibly need so badly at 2 am. I hear Jarom rattling off some police code and it all falls into place. When he forgets to sign off with dispatch they have to contact him to make sure he is safe.
Just keeping with this week’s theme; It Could Have Been A Lot Worse! More on that later.
That's right-- a cliffhanger!
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