Save some time to dream...

I have always been a bit of a wild dreamer - and I mean that literally, not figuratively. As in I have the most bizarre, life-like dreams that always take a second to shake as I wake up. I have to remind myself that I'm not in fact on the set of Real Housewives of Miami while Andy Cohen talks to my stomach. (Had that one last night after reading his memoir before bed. I was kind of sad that it was just a dream because how AWESOME would that be?)

Now that I'm pregnant, those dreams have gotten even crazier, and, more frequent. JBB probably hears "I've got to tell you about the dream I had last night!" almost as much as he hears, "What do you want to do for dinner?" For whatever reason, he NEVER remembers his dreams. I'm convinced he just doesn't have them. The ONE dream he remembers is that we were in the hospital and I delivered Cookie and she was a girl... when he told me this I started to place a lot of stock in the dream, thinking it must be a sign since he never dreams. Until he told me in that same dream, Cookie was born at 33.5 inches. Hearing that, my womb shivered in terror and said "That's hogwash, never dream again!"

Anyway...all of this intense dreaming has gotten me to thinking about what dreams I have for Cookie. As a parent-to-be, it's hard to not daydream. At the risk of sounding like a loon, I already have a first birthday party theme in mind for a boy and for a girl. I am, after all, the same person who produced a wedding invitation list the morning after JBB proposed. I like to plan!

Some of my dreams are lofty, and some are not quite so grand. I hope, above all, that Cookie is a strong, healthy baby who grows into a kind, loving adult. I hope that she makes this world a better place by being a part of it. It doesn't have to be anything earthshaking; sure, I'd love her to cure cancer, but I'd also love her to smile at strangers (but not take any candy from them!) , hold the door for the person behind her, and sometimes over tip just because. I hope that Cookie is happy, and knows true contentment. I hope that she has a contagious laugh that comes freely and often and without any reservation. I hope she finds something she LOVES to do - whether it's playing sports (that will come from her daddy!), or reading books, or traveling the globe. Whatever it is, I hope it fills her with excitement and happiness and a feeling of complete joy. I hope she has her daddy's pretty blue eyes, and if Cookie happens to be a boy, I hope he inherits his daddy's silver hair. (Heck, I hope a girl inherits that - how beautiful would that hair be on a woman!?) I hope that she loves to swim and will spend countless hours in the pool playing Marco Polo and Sharks and Minnows with her cousins. I hope that he worries less than his mama, and understands that there are things he can't control, so just let them go. I hope he has his daddy's complete lack of judgement of others. I hope he loves to snuggle, and says I love you without hesitation, and never gets too old or cool for bear hugs. I hope that she is able to stand up for herself, and for what is right. To not laugh along with other kids at the expense of someone else. I hope she'll always defend the underdog, and never, ever have a sense of entitlement. I hope that she is so darned excited on Christmas Eve that she can't sleep and blasts into our rooms at 6:00 am, ready to see what Santa has in store for her. I hope that she loves family vacations with the same fervor that I do, at the age of 31 years old. I hope that he or she finds someone to love and to love her as ferociously as I do her dad, and he does me.

I could go on forever. (Don't worry, I won't). It's just so incredible to think that in less than six months a little person is coming our way and we are responsible for shaping it's life; I don't want to mess up, and I don't ever want to unknowingly thwart a dream or crush a sensitive little soul. (Lord knows if it's half mine, it will be sensitive. Ask my mom about how I reacted to the time she asked me to "rest my mouth." I sobbed. For hours. I can still remember where I sat in the dining room, facing the wall, in shock my mom didn't want to hear another one of my many insights.) So, upon retrospect, I also hope Cookie isn't as sensitive as I am; perhaps skin a few inches thicker than mine would be a good thing!

And...on a lighter note...I've got taking the pre-natals down. Standing up and taking them with something other than water seems to be the trick! Thanks for the tips!