Saturday, March 16, 2013

Daddy the Diver

I am sure I have just as many dreams as everyone else does, but I rarely remember them. Even on the rare occasions when I do wake up during a dream, and I think to myself, "Hey that was a good dream. I'm sure I'll remember that one in the morning," I almost never do. I fall back into a deep sleep, the depth of which would rival that of the Grand Canyon, and by morning, the dream has vanished into the abyss known as my brain, never to be heard from again.

Over the past four years, though, I have had a handful of dreams that, while not always the same overall, have shared at least one similar facet. It's an odd facet; I am not entirely sure why I would dream about this so often, but I do. It's quite strange, and a little unnerving.

The thing that I dream about so often is falling babies. Not that there are a multitude of falling babies in my dreams. It's not like it's raining babies or anything weird like that in my dreams. There's always just one baby who is falling, and it's always whichever one of my children happens to be a baby at the time. 

The baby that is doing the falling is always falling off of something, like a ledge, or down the stairs, or out of a window. That's probably what makes these crazy dreams so realistic. These are scenarios that could really happen.

My guess is that, even though dreams about falling babies are slightly unnerving, I probably would quickly forget these dreams like I do most of my other dreams. Except, these falling baby dreams are so real that I find myself sleep-diving all over our bedroom trying to catch my mythical dream children. I have sleep-dived across the Wife's legs to catch the mythical dream Girl on the other side of the bed. I have sleep-dived completely out of bed to catch the mythical dream Baby, only to be awakened when I hit the closet doors. I have sleep-dived over my nightstand, knocking off my glasses, books, and everything else that happened to be on there, to catch the mythical dream Boy. I can cause quite the mess.
This is an artist's rendition of me diving all over our bedroom, trying to catch my mythical dream babies. I'm not sure why the artist thinks I wear shoes to bed. Other than that it's very realistic.
Needless to say, waking up in places other than my cozy bed, and with stuff strewn about the room, is almost as unnerving as the dreams themselves.What is it about having babies that makes me dream about them falling? I never dream about me falling. Or the yippy, annoying dogs falling. Just our babies. Why has having children made me start having such scary, realistic dreams? Should the Wife start strapping me into bed so I don't make such a mess? These are all good questions. I think I'll sleep on it and get back to you.

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