Tag Archives: strange dreams

We’ve had a house for a day and a half.

We’ve had a house for a day and a half.

Last night I had this long elaborate dream that involved me discovering that Joey married me five years ago only for the purpose of buying a house.  And now that we had finally bought a house, he was planning to kill me. With a knife, in Canada.

I woke up after we had finally gotten to Canada and were in the taxi (it was sparkly and red) and we were driving to our hotel where I was pretty sure I was going to die.

Fortunately, I woke up.

And then I said, “Um, are you planning to kill me?  Do you have a knife?  Are we going to Canada?”

Joey was really confused.  But I think he’s going to let me live.

Now that we have a permanent, real, INDIANA address it’s time for new driver’s licenses.  And new plates on the cars.  Before we get pulled over and the 5-0 is all WHY DO YOU HAS TEXAS PLATES IF YOU LIVE IN INDIANA?!  Maybe no one else is worried about this, but it stresses me out every time I get on the road.  I’m pretty sure I have a little sign above my car that says “She moved here but she hasn’t changed her plates yet, give her a ticket and yell at her.”

I was talking with Angel yesterday afternoon and she mentioned that I would have to take a test when I got my Indy license.  I got real pale and light-headed and immediately thought I am so going to fail this test 25 times and then I’ll never get a Indiana license.

Maybe pregnancy has made me a pessimist.  Or maybe it happened before I got pregnant.  Either way, I was not thinking positively when I arrived at the BMV with my Texas driver’s license, birth certificate, marriage license, social security card, passport, and two documents proving I have an Indiana address.

Well, I passed the test.  The guy said I passed “a ton” but not more than the allowed number.  I was so shocked I didn’t even care how many I missed.

Joey’s getting his license this afternoon, and we’re getting plates for the Corolla, but the RAV4 will take a few extra weeks since it’s new.  But we’ll be 75% legal, and I guess that’s better than the 0% we were up until yesterday.

Once we have a regular old party at the BMV, we’re heading back out to the house to measure rooms to ascertain how much paint we need, and to take panoramic “before” shots of the rooms.  Joey said I could go measure the rooms myself this morning, but that sounded stressful.  I like to estimate paint by looking at the room with my eyeballs and making a value judgement about how much paint the room feels like it needs.  Here’s my guess right now:

  • Kitchen – 1 gallon
  • Bedrooms – 1 gallon each
  • Purple bathroom – 1 gallon (and JOEY was the one who picked the purple color.  I almost passed out.)
  • Other bathroom – 1 gallon
  • Great Room-ish Type Thing – 4 gallons

We’ll see how close I am.

And now, it’s time to go walk Henry because he’s been entirely to spastic this morning.  He’s been nuts ever since I took him to the house yesterday afternoon and he was like THIS HOUSE IS MINE!!! and ran around it like he was being nice to let us live there, pay his mortgage, and feed him.

Panoramic pictures forthcoming.  Not sure when, but forthcoming.

The Name Game: Week 6

The Name Game: Week 6

Maybe it’s because we went to Chick-Fil-A yesterday (ugh, I hate Chick-Fil-A, but don’t tell Joey).  But anyway, we were looking for a place to sit down, and Joey slid into the first table we passed.  The chair across from his?  Well, maybe six months ago I’d have been able to slide myself into it, but yesterday I just stood there staring at distance from the table to the chair to the chair of the big burly guy right behind it.

There was no way I was going to finagle my way into that chair.  It kind of traumatized me.

I stood there for a few moments, staring at the chair and trying to figure out if it was worth accidentally knocking into the burly man while I tried to get myself into the small space when Joey realized I couldn’t fit into the table.

“Oh,” he said.  ”Oops.  Um, sorry, let’s move over here.”

The next table was much better, especially since my chair backed up into the aisle.  I could get as fat as I wanted to at that table.

Last night?  I dreamed that everywhere I went I was getting stuck. The last one I remember is that I went on a walk to try to get to the beach and got stuck between two fences.  Like, BELLY WEDGED BETWEEN TWO FENCES.  And fortunately about the time I was about to have a panic attack in my dream, Joey woke me up.

I didn’t sleep so good.

In other news, all looks good for us to FINALLY close on a house next Wednesday.  YAY I AM SO HAPPY!  Of course, I haven’t picked paint colors for any room except the baby’s room.  We’re doing hers first, naturally.  I had this strange thought to paint our bedroom red in between dreams of getting stuck places last night, so I have to discuss this with Joey.  Our room was green in Texas and brown in Iowa..so red would be a big change.  But I think I might like it.

Who cares about paint colors except for me, anyways?  Not you, that’s for sure.

Anyway, poll results.

  1. Kiera – 43.48%
  2. Isabelle – 39.13%
  3. Beatrice – 8.7%
  4. Talia – 8.7%

Therefore, no more Beatrice and Talia.  Poor Beatrice.  I liked that name.

Analie

Beatrice

Coraline

Darcy

Elinor

Frances

Gillian

Helena

Isabelle

Julianne

Kiera

Lenore

Marna

Nora

Olivia

Piper

Quincy

Rowena

Simone

Talia

Uma

Violet

Wren

Xara

Yalena

Zerubabella

Let’s just hope he doesn’t have the gift of dreams and prophecy

Let’s just hope he doesn’t have the gift of dreams and prophecy

About a month ago Joey woke up in a cold sweat and in the process woke me up as well.

“I just had the weirdest dream ever,” he gasped.

Turns out he dreamed that I was in labor and we were in the hospital with things progressing the way they normally do.  And when the doctor whipped out the baby, he had a bit of a look of shock on his face.  Joey soon realized why, because a Shih-Tzu came scampering up the bed towards us that I had apparently just given birth to.

“Oh!  She’s beautiful!” I squealed.  ”We’ll call her ‘Prison’!”

Ahh, such a beautiful name.

Now, granted, there is SOME concern with IVF that they may have transferred the wrong embryos (trust me, I do stress out about this even so often but I really try not to) but I figure if they had blown it that bad they would have let us know by now.  And as far as I know, the Presby ARTS lab doesn’t do Shih-Tzu IVFs.  Only human.

I don’t even know if they do IVF for Shih-Tzus.  It sounds very expensive.

Sometimes I call Henry “Prison” just for fun, though.

My Worst Nightmare

My Worst Nightmare

It’s no secret I hate to fly.

I have flying nightmares every now and then, just because my brain likes to remind itself that flying TERRIFIES ME.

Last night, I dreamed that Sister was flying me around in a Cessna, only she was a really bad pilot.  She had us up really high and then got lost because she couldn’t read the instruments, so we were trying to look for familiar landmarks on the ground so we’d know where to land.

Finally, I saw Iowa so I was like, Um, there’s Iowa so you can go down now; we’re no longer lost.

So Sister NOSEDIVES the plane because I guess that seemed like the smartest thing for her to do at the time.  ”This is not how Dad would do it,” I screamed at her.

The cabin loses pressure and no oxygen masks come down from the ceiling, I guess because it’s an itty bitty Cessna.  And I’m screaming, STOP, STOP, PULL UP!  DON’T CRASH US!, when all of a sudden, things start getting really swirly and the blood starts pounding in my ears, and I hear the buzzing of the locusts that are a signal to me that I’m about to pass out.

I figure passing out is better than being awake while I die because Sister is trying to crash land us into Iowa, so I let myself pass out.

Then I wake up from my dream, my ears still pounding and gasping for breath.  The clock reads 3:25, and I realize that I was so terrified of Sister’s plane-flying skills in my dream, that I passed out IN MY SLEEP.  I didn’t even know this was possible.  I must have been holding my breath in my dream as the plane nose-dived toward the earth or something, because I felt absolutely terrible between the gasping to catch my breath and the horrid swirling in my head that I experience after a good passing-out.

Anyway, I told Joey this morning that I passed out in my nightmare, and he said it was weird and so was I, and he gave me very little sympathy.  He also laughed really hard.

I guess it is kind of funny, isn’t it?

Apparently I wouldn’t go bad, I’d just go annoying

Apparently I wouldn’t go bad, I’d just go annoying

First thing Joey said this morning after waking up was, “I slept really good.  I had this awesome dream that I defeated a Jedi.”

And I was like, “Aren’t Jedi good guys though?”

“Sometimes they go bad.  This one went bad and I defeated him.”

“Did you have a light saber?”

“No.  I didn’t need one, I used the Israeli Defense Force’s martial art, Krav Maga.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” I told him.

“It’s like Tae Kwon Do only you use it for street fighting. It’s awesome.” He said.

“That’s weird, ” I said.

Joey rolled over and said, “No, it’s not that weird.  Batman uses it in all the new movies.”

I couldn’t help it.  I had to laugh.  ”So…you’re Batman.”

Joey made a frustrated growling noise and said, “I’m not Batman, I just defeated the Jedi using Krav Maga.”

“I’ve still never heard of that before, I think you made it up.  But if Jedis go bad, what’s the point of being Jedi; I thought they were good guys?  I would probably go bad if I was a Jedi.”

Joey heaved a large sigh.  ”FIRST of all, the plural of Jedi is JEDI; there is no S on it.  Second of all, if you became a Jedi you wouldn’t even have to go bad, you’d just go annoying.”

There you have it, Internet.  My husband says I’m annoying.

Almost Here

Almost Here

It’s a beautiful morning.

I woke up about 6:30 after a night of extremely weird sleep (I do not recommend falling asleep at 5:45, waking up again at 8:30, and going back to bed at 10:00) and even stranger dreams.  Pretty much all the dreams involved the following:

  • Drinking water or eating food and thus screwing up my procedure
  • Calling the Anesthesiologist in the middle of the night; you know, since we have his home phone number
  • Getting into a huge, huge catfight at PetSmart with one of the employees over Henry

Like I said, weird sleep.  The PetSmart dream was the weirdest, because it scared me so bad that I had to force myself to wake up from it.

Injected hormones are unstable things.

I wondered what it would feel like to wake up and know that today is the day they’re going to assemble your babies in a lab outside your body, but honestly?  After everything?  It just feels…kind of anticlimactically normal.  Like, this is just how it’s done.

Although yesterday, I was standing with a couple of acquaintances of mine and the two of them were talking about children and how it’s SO FRUSTRATING to have them really close together.  I wasn’t participating in the conversation, just standing there, but as I went to leave one of them said to me, “Oh won’t worry, you have plenty of time.”

Sigh.

IF ONLY.

It absolutely drives me crazy me when people make offhand comments like that, especially THE DAY BEFORE we undergo IVF because oh!  my goodness!  turns out that we don’t have plenty of time!

But whatever.  I’m actually getting used to hearing and responding to stuff like that.  And my usual response (depending on the person and the situation) is to ignore the comment, which is exactly what I did yesterday.

So here starts the waiting game for today.  It’s 7:35 now, and I’m not scheduled to get admitted until 9:45.  I can’t eat any breakfast or drink anything (AAAAUGH!  I am so thirtsty!!!  I hate this part of having surgery the most!!) so I have a really bad feeling my compulsive preparation and cleaning/tidying gene is about to kick in since I have all this extra time.

DIRT!  DUST!  BEWARE OF ME!  Because HERE I COME!

Hitler and Pepsi

Hitler and Pepsi

I think IVF stress is going to ruin my brain.  Either that or memory loss and idiocy is a side effect of my medicine: I’m forgetting absolutely everything lately, I’m bad at responding to emails, I can’t figure out my new cell phone.  AND SO ON.

 

Yesterday and the day before I felt pretty good.  Today I am absolutely dragging.

 

This could have more to do with the fact that I had a really weird and very long dream about being Hitler’s secretary.  Hitler was really mean in my dream, so I kept trying to find ways to blow him up but he kept foiling my plans by being screaming, “Jenna I need you to get over here right now!!” at me, and then I’d have to go stand by him. Which, of course, was always right where I had set my bomb to go off.  Obviously I was not going to blow myself up.

 

So after an entire night, pretty much, of trying to kill Hitler, let’s just say I did not feel refreshed when the alarm went off.

 

In fact I felt so un-refreshed that I got back in bed after drinking my coffee, and I fell asleep.  Which made us late.

 

That’s the secondary reason why I am having a Pepsi today.  The clock is ticking, y’all.  Once I start shooting myself up every day I can’t have caffeine anymore.  I guess caffeine and ovary simulation meds are not a good combination.  (I just really creeped myself out by thinking about that, so now I’m shaking my head really hard to jiggle the mental picture away.  Whew.  It’s gone, but now I have a headache.)

 

I have until November 21st to caffeinate myself.  I will totally rise to the challenge/occasion.

Lady, that is NOT going to work!

Lady, that is NOT going to work!

For the last week or week and a half, about as long as I was on antibiotics I just realized, I have had WEIRD. DREAMS.  Like, causing me to get a bad night of sleep weird dreams.  Waking me up two or three times a nigh weird dreams.  So weird that I can’t remember them when I wake up weird dreams.

You get the picture.

I’ve also not been able to fall asleep due to a hyperactive brain.  So, to summarize, please feel sorry for me; not able to fall asleep, waking up lots of times in the night with weird dreams.

I got this dynamite lavender eye mask from Bianca on Monday, and the last couple nights I have been testing it out.  I throw it in the microwave and get it all toasty and aromatic, then I plop it on my face for ten minutes until it makes me sleepy.  Then I pass out.  Surprisingly, it has been working great.

Although, this morning I woke up hard.  I had a rough time coming to the light, as it were, and kind of stumbled around while making the bed.

Joey handed me my coffee (because we drink coffee around here now) and I flopped down on the couch rather unceremoniously (and unladylike).

“So…sleep good last night?” He asked me from his place at the kitchen table.

“I think so,” I mumbled.

“Did you have any weird dreams?” He asked.

“I don’t remember any.  I only woke up once at 2:30,” I replied.

“Well, I KNOW you had weird dreams,” Joey said, smugly.

“What?”

“Yep.  You woke me up yelling, ‘Lady, that is NOT going to work!’” He snickered while he said it.

“I did?” I was kind of surprised, I don’t usually talk in my sleep.

Apparently I did.

I really wish I remembered my dream.  I would like very much to find out who the lady was, why I was yelling at her, and what was NOT GOING TO WORK.

On a completely unrelated note, I’m all distracted and freaking out because tomorrow is the day that the IOC announces the 2016 Olympic host city.  I am hoping it’s Chicago with every single molecule of my entire body.  Joey said that if it’s Chicago, we’ll start a 2016 Olympic fund and save up for TICKETS to the Opening Ceremonies!  And TICKETS to a medal event!

Just thinking about it makes me virtually seizure with excitement about the possibility.

I start crying when Bob Costas comes on to start the pre-Olympic coverage on TV because I’m SO! HAPPY! that the Olympics are about to begin…I can’t imagine what would happen to me at an Opening Ceremonies event.

The One About Hair

The One About Hair

I woke up at 3:30 this morning feeling kind of awful, and after that all I did was have strange, strange dreams.  I assume that you can imagine how, when my alarm went off at 6:15, I felt like I’d run a marathon (which we all know I can’t do), so I slapped the snooze.

I got up early enough to do a once-through on my daily crossword (YAY – we found the New York Times Daily Crossword Calendar at Barnes and Noble for $3.25 on clearance!  SCORE FOR ME!) and put away the clean laundry that Joey had folded.  After that it was go time, and if I had skipped the crossword we probably wouldn’t have been five minutes late getting out the door.

Poor Joey.

In the car on the way down, I mentioned that I’d had strange dreams and was exhausted.  “The worst one was about the hair appointment I have on Thursday.  I dreamed that I was getting a hair glossing treatment after my trim, and my stylist is like, ‘Yeahhhhh, I don’t know if we’re going to let you come back here.  The salon manager doesn’t really like you; he thinks you don’t have a personality and he’s not sure we want people like you representing the way we cut hair.’  So then I was like, ‘BUT I DO HAVE A PERSONALITY! Which one is he, I’ll go prove it!’  But that’s all I remember.  I’m not sure if I have to find a new hair salon for my next dream or not.”

“Huh,” Joey said.  He can’t really relate since I’m the one that cuts his hair.

“Plus I have to go there.  Everywhere else is too expensive,” I said.  Then I felt ridiculous for defending myself against my dream.  (But seriously, I love my salon.)

I really do have a hair appointment on Thursday, too.  And now I’m all worried they’re going to fire me from getting my hair cut there…is that even possible?

Tuesday Morning

Tuesday Morning

When my alarm went off at 6:00 this morning I was pulled out of a bad dream, and somehow both of my arms were asleep…not my favorite way to wake up.

I refused to get out of bed while I couldn’t feel my arms.  Absolutely refused.

So I tried to turn off my alarm with one of my sleeping arms.  You just try doing that, fine motor control is next to impossible.  I managed to slap the snooze button without swiping anything off the dresser and spent the next ten minutes trying to regain feeling in my arms.

Not easy.

It took the entire ten minutes before my arms woke up.  By that time, the rest of me was awake too.  I was still stumbling around and trying to make the bed when Joey came in from the kitchen where he’d been studying Hebrew.

“You hit the snooze?” He asked.

“I hit the snooze.  I was having a bad dream and my arms were asleep when I woke up, so I refused to get up.  It took ten minutes to be able to feel them again without pins and needles.”

I can’t really remember what my bad dream was about, but I sort of think it was about politics.  I listened to way too much radio yesterday.