Thursday, May 19, 2011


Last night I had a dream that we had a baby.  A month later, our little one had developed into about a one year old, walking, babbling, signing and even playing at potty training.  In my dream, no one seemed to notice the rapid growth except for me.  I started doing the math and realized he was just a month old.  I asked my husband if he thought there was anything unusual about a  walking one-month old and he said that all our children were fast to develop.  I think the incongruity of the whole thing is what finally woke me up.

While making breakfast with my girl, I shared my dream with her.  Her only comment?  “I hope I have girls.” 

So I told her how I had really hoped her older brother had been a girl.  Not so much because I wanted to play dress up—though that was certainly a factor—but because I was afraid I wouldn’t know how to raise a boy.  I only have sisters and my dad was out of the house by the time I was seven.  Boys were a little scary to me and I didn’t want to be responsible for screwing one up.

So, how did my girl respond?  “Will you learn how to raise a boy soon?”  Nice, huh?

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