I had no intention of blogging this morning . . .
I had to get up at 4am to pack a lunch for Baby Girl, who needed to be out the door at 4:30 am to catch the bus taking all the youth from our church to Quebec City. There is a huge LDS Youth Conference being held in Quebec over the next four days and they are going to have a lot of fun! As soon as she and Mr. Level-Headed left the house, I crawled back into bed and fell asleep. I was shocked when I finally came to that it was 10 am . . . woohoo! This pregnancy has not been conducive to sleeping in and every morning, whether it be a weekend or weekday, which really isn't any different for the kids and I during the summer anyway, my internal clock wakes me up at 7 am . . . sheesh! Needless to say I was pretty happy about my sleep-in. As I laid in bed and thought about the day ahead of me, one that should be a whole lot less hectic than yesterday, I decided to take the morning off from my blog. There really is not a whole lot to say and I was really enjoying being lazy in my big comfy bed. Then, I heard a little knock on my door.
Mom . . .
Avery and I were wondering what you want for breakfast.
Awww . . . I will take some cereal and orange juice. I will be out in a minute to eat it.
No need. Stay in bed. We will bring it to you.
Not only did they bring my breakfast, but they also brought me my laptop so that I could write my blog! (which is why I caved and decided to write this post)
Okay, so for the record, I am truly raising the best sons ever! Sure they are loud and boisterous and embarrassing and violent and crazy and intense, but they also have the biggest hearts ever and they spoil me like crazy. As nervous as I am about having another baby and going through that whole sleep-deprived, 24 hour a day hands-on experience of introducing a new being into our world, I can't help but think we are going to do great. Raising this baby is not going to be anything like when I had my other three because I am somewhat wiser and, albeit, just a little bit more laid back. Plus, the other three are quite self-sufficient now and will be a huge help. Sure this baby is going to bring a whole new level of chaos into our home, but I am confident we can handle this. Right?!
Okay since I have you here this morning, I might as well embarrass myself to some degree. Isn't that what I do best? So, one of the reasons I think I needed this lovely sleep-in this morning is because my nights are very restless. Being a belly sleeper and having a belly that is continually growing in size just do not mix. I can not get comfortable and it seems once I do, Thing 4 starts partying. Then to make matters worse, I am having the most exhausting and intensely realistic dreams ever. Perhaps not realistic in the sense that they could or would actually happen, but realistic in the sense that they are so life-like. To make matters worse, my dreams are not much fun. In fact, all I seem to ever do in them is work, and work and work. They are exhausting and I wake up even more exhausted than when I first laid down. The other night I spent the entire night saran-wrapping plates of food. Is this not the craziest thing you have ever heard? The next night I dreamt I was a Viking, and I had been captured by a rival Viking crew. I had to clean for them and cook for them. When I finally had had enough of being their slave, I then spent the remainder of my dream devising intricate plans of escape. See, even in my dreams I cannot seem to escape my anxiety or nesting neurotics.
Well, after months of these intense and tiring work dreams, I told Mr. Level-Headed that I just wanted to start having some fun in my dreams. I told him that I needed a vacation from my dream world, and as crazy as it sounds, that is all it took. That night, Monday night to be exact, I did not have a single dream about working. Nope. Instead I dreamt all night long that I was at one rip, roaring party . . . tee hee! All the Websters were there, our British soccer coaches were there, and all my friends from our church were there too. It was wild! I drank, I smoked, I danced, and then I passed out. As I was lying face down on the floor of someone's living room, I felt really uncomfortable. Then it occurred to me that my belly was sore. Finally, I clued in that I was pregnant and the panic set in. This was when I finally woke up. I groggily lifted my head off the pillow just as Mr. Level-Headed was coming out of our bathroom, and I mumbled:
I just dreamt that I got drunk, and I was smoking, but I was still pregnant.
Being Mr. Level-Headed and being accustomed to my early morning mumblings, which always seem to surpass my standard, mid-day ridiculousness, he brushed the hair off of my face and without even missing a beat, he said, in all seriousness:
I am sure your dream was in the 70's, and in the 70's, none of that would matter. The baby is fine. Go back to sleep.
And I did . . . tee hee!
See why I love him so much!
Now last night's dream was more much tame, but I was still on dream vacation-mode. I dreamt I was in New York City with two little kids (hmmmm . . . perhaps there is a Thing 5 in our future as well), and we were on the search for the best poutine in New York City . . . tee hee! Do they even have poutine in New York? Sadly, I woke up before I had the chance to eat some, but nonetheless, it was a great dream.
I think I really am crazy . . .