Only the Good Ones

Lately, I’ve been thinking about dreams.  The ones I have.  Those I can’t remember.  Why don’t I dream much lately?  Why do I only remember nightmares?  Recurring dreams I’ve had lately and the ones I remember from being very small.  I don’t know why it’s been on my mind so much, but I was inspired to post about it while I was visiting my buddy at Move Over Mary Poppins and reading a post about a dream she had.

It used to be that I dreamed all the time, and when I did, I could remember them vividly, in technicolor detail.  Now, if I remember a dream it’s because it was horrifying. Granted, these don’t come along very often.  I just can’t see the justice in only recalling the bad ones.

All this wondering brought to mind a recurring nightmare I had when I was young.  Very, very young.  I wasn’t old enough to have many memories from the time period aside from this dream.  I must have been 2 or 3 years old.  No.  Maybe older, because I just remembered the bike.  It was white with pink stars on the seat and streamers on the handlebars.

Maybe I was 4.  This bike was my getaway vehicle that starred in this particular dream.  On the bike, going as fast as I could with my short little legs, pedaling with ferocity and “running” for my life, I teetered along a ledge that ran the perimeter of a very tall building.  This thing I was trying to get away from was a pink “Popples” type anomaly.

It sounds sort of ridiculous and not at all scary, but I can remember waking in cold sweats screaming and crying. Good thing I had my Teddy Ruxpin and my Glow Worm. Those Popples were awful.

Last night as Tim and I were getting the boys dressed after their bath, they spotted their nighttime visitor on their window.  It doesn’t show up every night but probably 9 times out of 10.  It’s been hanging around telling them “good night” for quite some time now, maybe a month, month and a half.  I find it strange that it always ends up on that particular window at that particular time of day.  The boys LOVE it.  So I snapped a few pictures.

Putting the boys to bed is probably my favorite part of the day.  It’s not even mostly because it gets so quiet, but it’s the sweetness of it that I love so much.  They get rowdy and jump and holler for a while, we rough-house and wrestle a bit, and then they quiet down and get those sleepy, droopy eyelids.  They get under their covers, snuggle up with their stuffed animals and do their best to listen as I read Harry Potter.

I get to watch them doze as I read.  I get to watch them yawn.  It takes me back to when my mom used to read to me and how her voice would lull and soothe.  It was perfect.  They are perfect.  Then, when they are mostly asleep we whisper our “good night’s” to one another, hug, kiss, and tuck blankets.  We turn on their night-light, which is a turtle from CloudB.

Their room is quite dreamy when the lights are out for the night.  Sometimes, I want to stay in there with them.  I just hope that in due time they will just complete their high school education rather than need to earn their GED diploma. Sweet dreams, little dudes. Only remember the good ones.