Mixed Baby Signals
A few strange things have happened over the past week that have further complicated this already-complicated-enough decision, and I can’t help feeling that my brain is playing tricks on me. Quite frankly, Brain, that’s rude.
Strange Thing #1: Inadvertently Sucked Into a Vortex of Nick Jr. Television
Drew’s sister and two nephews recently stayed overnight at our place and left the t.v. on the Nickelodeon channel. When I turned it on the next morning, Clifford the Big Red Dog was teaching his friends a little lesson about why lying is bad. I could not turn it off. The looming threat of having to watch more than 30 seconds of a Barney video had always seemed to me one of the more horrendous aspects of having kids. But Clifford and his rag-tag team of neighborhood strays had lulled me into some sort of trance. I felt downright peaceful.
Strange Thing #2: Seduced by Charming Nursery Curtains with Baby Owls
I went to my friend Megan’s baby shower yesterday, and before all the requisite cooing over bottle sanitizers began, I took a peek at her nursery. It was painted in a soothing soft green – perhaps designed to make me feel as though I’d slipped into a nice bucket of mint chocolate chip? – and everything about it seemed fuzzy and nap-inducing. In an effort to force the issue, I walked over to the crib and tried to imagine leaning over a sleeping mini-Me&Drew. Despite how creepy this all sounds to me (and no doubt you) as I’m now writing it, at the time, being in that nursery felt strangely, surprisingly…calm.
Strange Thing #3: A Baby Nightmare (it’s okay – I’m awake now)
Now, lest you pro-baby people get too excited and think this means I’m on the verge of full-blown Baby Rabies, I must tell you that both these events were directly followed by a rather scary anti-baby dream. And I’ll apologize in advance – I know how dreadfully boring it is to hear about other people’s dreams.
In the dream, I realized I’d given birth to a baby not too long ago. The baby, however, was nowhere to be found. I thought, “Hmm….what happened to that baby thing?” Then, “Oh, someone must be taking care of it.” Then, “Should I find out if someone, is, in fact, taking care of it?” Then, “No, that sounds boring.” Then, “I hope they just keep it, whoever has it.” Then, “Oh my God, did I really just have a baby? I hope not. I hope this is a dream. I hope I wake up soon. Is this a nightmare? Someone wake me up!”
What am I supposed to do with this information, Brain? Which of these experiences actually mean something? From which of these opposing reactions am I supposed to cull some answers?
Maybe There ARE No Answers Here
After all, each of these can be easily explained away:
- Perhaps Clifford the Big Red Dog’s people have just smartly figured out how to hypnotize their small viewers into an all-consuming trance, so their parents can actually get some housework done, brush their teeth, whatever. Or maybe just I’m stressed out, and grown-up television has become too intense and trashy to provide me with any sense of comfort or release.
- Perhaps I found the nursery soothing because I have a thing for mobiles comprised of fluffy lambs, or enjoyed the thought of taking a bath in a whale-shaped tub promising “A Whale of a Good Time”. Or, just as likely, maybe I slipped into a brief diabetic coma from the three mimosas, heaping slice of a Susie Cakes’ vanilla and strawberry concoction, and this lovely owl cookie. [Okay, yes, I’m the hillbilly that ate my party favor while still at the party.]
- And as for the dream, well, isn’t the common belief now that dreams are nothing more than random neurological misfirings? And that Taco Bell Dorito taco just before bedtime couldn’t have helped.
Ah, what am I doing? Looking for answers where there are none right now? Reading too much into every little thought?
Does any of this actually mean something?