Hope for our world?

Last night, I was very depressed. For a few days now, I have been feeling down. All of the negativity I have been exposed to was just too much for me. I turn on the news and there’s death, murder, violence and hate. I open the newspaper and there’s a ton of bad stuff going on. I get on the computer and people share links to a child being murdered, another ISIS attack somewhere in which thousands of people were slain/beheaded or something about government corruption (the poor getting poorer, the sick getting sicker and the hungry getting hungrier). It doesn’t help that I recently read a true crime book in which people killed a young, innocent girl and basically walked free after serving time. (After I finished reading that book, I lost all hope in humanity. I was so upset and outraged. I guess people can get away with murder now!)

And even with politics, there’s so much hatred and violence going around. Even candidates encouraging people to be violent or hateful towards our fellow human beings. They WANT religion to divide us. They WANT race to divide us. They WANT our nationality to divide us. They are not interested in bringing people together, only in dividing them and encouraging them to adopt the same hateful, discriminating mindset they have. I have grown disgusted with politics because of all the lying, hypocrisy and selfish agendas in every single politician.

It was just too much. Of course, I was also upset about my own personal problems, but I’m not going to get into that.

The world is a huge gigantic mess. It is all so messed up. I have written a book of poems about the negative things in this world and it was hard to write because it made my heart hurt so much.

So I was really upset about it all. And I have just given up hope for the world. I have given up ON the world entirely.

But then I had a dream last night. And to some people, maybe it didn’t mean anything, but it meant something to me.

In the dream, I saw different images of different parts of the world. And during that entire montage, I heard Gene Wilder singing part of that song he sang in Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory: “If you want a view of paradise, simply look around and view it. If you want to, do it. Want to change the world, there’s nothing to it.”

Now I realize that song is about being creative and using your imagination to make your dreams come true. It’s also about believing in yourself to accomplish your dreams.

However, given my recent depressive episode, I saw the lines of that song differently. I interpreted them differently.

As so:

“If you want a view of paradise, simply look around and view it.”

This basically means if you are not happy with the state of things, have a clear idea of how you want them to be – what kind of changes you want to make – and keep that as your focus as you work to try to make it happen.

“If you want to, do it.”

I know one person cannot change the world. And with so much bad stuff going on in the world, it may seem overwhelming. Like nobody will care if you do something GOOD for the world or for people. Or it won’t make much difference.

Do it, anyway. It’s enough that you want to. Volunteer at a soup kitchen, donate to a food service for the poor, help the unfortunate, start a program that helps the homeless. If you want to do it, then do it!

“Want to change the world, there’s nothing to it.”

What this line said to me is that it can be the simplest thing that could make a positive difference in the world. Some people may think, “Oh, I’m not smart enough. I need money. I can’t do it alone. I don’t know where to start.” Etc. But really, it’s not that complicated to make a difference. Do a random act of kindness like paying for someone’s lunch or holding a door open for someone. Spread the word about a lost dog or share information about a missing child. The littlest and simplest things can make a positive difference.

Used to be I’d get so upset over the horrible state of our world that I would pray for it. Just pray for the world. But now I know I can take action and do things, too. Positive things. Things that can make a difference. It may not seem like much and I am only one person, but I think if we put more good things out there in the world, all of the bad things will not seem as terrible anymore.

Blackish? Really?

I had a very interesting dream last night.

There was an awards show going on. A black man came out on the stage and he grabbed a microphone from the stand. In the very far foreground, there were two rows of announcers talking during the show. Most of them were black and this one black woman identified the man on stage as “blackish.” The guy looked in her direction, clearly stunned. There was an uncomfortable silence, something like a loud gasp, after she’d said that word. I guess I should note that most of the people in the audience were black, as well. Then one lady in the top row said “Did you just say blackish?” And another one in the same row said, “You did NOT just say the word blackish.” Meanwhile, the girl who’d said the word was really uncomfortable and started stammering an apology. She was just as stunned by what she’d said as everybody else was. Then one brave soul decided to break the awkward, uncomfortable silence everybody was feeling by getting up from her seat, walking over to the girl who’d said the word, then playfully pulling her hair as she pretended to be mad and raging at her. The girl, meanwhile, was laughing, but it was obvious she was sorry for the mistake. Then everybody settled back in their seats and the show continued and I woke up.

When I woke up from that dream, I thought, Blackish? What the—

I know, dreams are weird. But it’s doubly weird that happened in my dream. I don't even watch awards shows, as it is. 

I have to admit that, as a writer, I find the word “blackish” off-putting. I mean, something or someone is either black or white. There is no in-between. To say that someone or something is “blackish” is like saying that they are not entirely black. They are somewhat black. Myself, if I came across that word in a book I’m reading, I would wonder that if the person or thing, like a cat, is “blackish,” then what’s the other color? In the example of a cat, it would make sense to say that the cat is “blackish and grayish” to indicate the combination of the two colors of the cat’s fur. That’s a better picture of what the cat could look like. Without the supplemental color, however, saying it’s “blackish” would leave me without a clear picture of the cat.

After I got the kids off to school this morning, and I was back at the desk, I decided to Google the word “blackish” to see what came up. The word just bugged me as a standalone word. I was seeing it as an adjective. However, I learned there is a sitcom called Black-ish, so maybe with the awards ceremony in my dream, maybe that was an actor for the show. (I am HORRIBLE at recognizing people – though I can totally recognize Stan Lee in any Marvel film! Hah!) I have not seen the show, so I’m not very clear on that. There is also a game developing company in Australia called Blackish Games. And Dictionary.com said it can be used to describe an African American person (though the people in my dream would disagree).

I have no qualms about adding “-ish” to words. Whovians got a good laugh with one episode of Doctor Who in which the Doctor tells his companion, Clara, “Same place…ish.” To which Clara replies, “Ish? Don’t give me an ish.” And the Doctor says, “These readings are very … um … ishy.”

I even give people an “ish.” Like, “Dinner will be ready at 8ish.” Or “I’ll see you at 3ish.” Sometimes, I’ll say “Some, somewhat” instead, but yes, I do say “ish” a lot if I’m not exactly sure about a time or place. Or I’ll say, “Thereabouts.”

But to use “ish” when describing someone, things can get a little muddled. Saying something like “He had newish clothes” is not all that bad, but calling a cat “blackish” seems a little incomplete.

And as a final thought on that word, perhaps “blackish” could describe something that is exclusively African American. Such as in “He likes to read books written by Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison and other blackish books.” I could see how that would work when the word is used in such a way, because people know Angelou was black and Morrison is black.

But I think to describe a person as “blackish” and not add much else is a bit of a no-no. 

Disappointed? OK, let's go there...

Ever since my dad died, I have been having these dreams. I either see my dad, my mom, or both of them. So far, the dreams have been nice. One of them was a little weird, but for the most part, they have been pleasant.

That is, until last night’s dream.

Last night I dreamed that I was sitting at a table with my parents. My dad happened to say that he, my mom, and even my grandmother (his mom) had all been so disappointed with me for dropping out of college.

After I woke up from that dream, I thought to myself, Well, there wasn’t anymore money to PAY for college! I had no choice!

At the time that that had happened, I was living in my own house, paying the mortgage and half utilities (since I shared the place) and covering the usual living costs like gas, insurance, food, etc. So, yeah, after paying for all that stuff, money for school was a little tight. It got to where I could no longer afford to go to school. So, that’s why I had dropped out. I am not proud of this, but you know, it’s not like I can go back in time and change anything. I DID try going back to school later but stopped because of the same result. (I was denied all forms of financial aid, by the way.)

I have always hoped to go back to school. But there’s NEVER been any money for it. Especially after I had kids. I would LIKE to go back to school, but right now, it is just too much of a financial hardship.

All that stuff was in my head today as I thought about that dream. But then the more I thought about it, the angrier I started to feel. Why in the hell did I even HAVE that dream? I KNOW I’m not doing anything with my life right now – just floating through it because I don’t know WHAT to do ever since I walked away from being a writer – but is that dream supposed to be any help to me at all? I have already contacted schools about enrolling and they all said “we’ll get back to you” but they never did. Story of my freaking life!

But then the anger started building up over the whole “we are so disappointed in you” card my parents played in that stupid dream.

So they were disappointed in me for dropping out of college? Wow. You know what? I have a whole book full of things I am disappointed with THEM about.

Like the fact that my dad ALWAYS let his temper get the better of him and he hit his kids. Or threw things around the house when he got mad.

Or the fact that my parents took the mortgage money that I gave to them each month for a house that was in our names and instead of paying the mortgage, they gambled that money away at the casinos. Then, when the house went into lien, they wanted ME to file for bankruptcy. Thereby ruining my credit even more. (That case was dismissed but it was ALWAYS on my record.)

Or the fact that they wanted to use MY name on their utility bill accounts and when they went bust on those accounts, I had to take the fall.

Or the fact that they knew that their precious son, the youngest one, was molesting me but did NOTHING about it. Oh, and my dad even accused ME of bringing him on to cause him to do it. Nice!

And while we’re talking about the Golden Boy: I’m disappointed in my parents for allowing him to get away with so much crap that he pulled with his siblings and other people. He was NEVER at fault. And it was totally fine he could mooch off my parents for years while doing drugs.

I’m disappointed in my dad for giving up on me after my novel was a bust. I was new to the book world. I had no idea signing with a co-op publisher was a bad thing. Of course the book was doomed to fail. It was so nice of my dad to call me after ALL of that blew over and to tell me, “You messed up.” He pretty much stopped supporting my writing after that. Not that there's anything to support since I never really succeeded with the writing anyway.

I am disappointed with my dad for failing to give me his new address after he moved in Illinois. How nice it was to get back the Christmas card I sent to him, which had pictures of his grandchildren in it. Oh, and while we’re on that topic: I’m disappointed they never tried to reach out and connect with the kids. My mom’s mental state was deteriorating before she died, so I get it that she forgot about my son and could not communicate with the kids. But my dad never even TRIED. In fact, I am grateful to my husband’s father for at least stepping up and trying to be a grandfather to the kids in his own way.

But probably the biggest disappointment I have is that my parents lied to me about the accident my mom and I were in. They told me some story about it but then refused to let me see any newspaper clippings about it. I found out that the story was told wrong after communicating with one of my cousins back east. This cousin knew the story better.

I’m not surprised I was lied to about it. People who KNOW my family knew we were all liars and cheaters and outlaws. It’s not anything new! But I was hurt that I was not told the truth. And for all those years, I told EVERYBODY that same incorrect story. I felt pretty rotten after that.

So, as you can see, I have my OWN disappointments I can file against my parents. Wouldn’t do any good now, since they’re both dead. But I fail to see what good bringing up past disappointments would be. You want disappointments? Oh, have I got them! I’ve got LOTS of them! And not JUST about my parents. I have disappointments about my life. About myself. So, yeah, I know ALL ABOUT disappointments. You know, my parents are not the only ones who have let me down. Other people have let me down. I have even let myself down.

There’s pretty much not much more worse it can get from here. But of course I could be wrong. It’s been a crappy year. I don’t think it's going to be getting much better. But, yeah, I know about disappointments. I know ALL about them. I have to carry all of them around and live with them every day. Sure I can try to fix things, make things right, and turn a disappointment into something I can forget about, but I just don't see it happening.

Waking up with laughter

One thing that often happens after I go to sleep is that I will wake up at 3ish and get out of bed for water (usually in the form of bottled water). I guess I get a bit dehydrated in my sleep.

But that wasn’t why I woke up at 3ish this time around. This time, this morning, I woke up laughing.

Apparently, something happened in my dream that was so insanely funny, that not only was I cracking up about it at the end of the dream, but I woke up laughing. And I lied there in bed, still laughing about it. (I also hoped I wasn’t going to wake up the kids with the sound of my laughter!)

The thing that happened in the dream, it was, like, the third “scene” of my dream.

First, I was working at this aviary. Somehow or another, I had this extensive knowledge about birds and was sharing it with people who visited the aviary. (Wow, I guess my “Birds” board on Pinterest is having an affect on me!) At one point, I was called to fix pipes in another part of the building. As I was walking to that part of the building to do that job, where there was a netted roof over the walkway, it started raining and I got soaked.

Then, in the next scene, I was outside of this house I had been journeying to. I was standing at the front door, knocking. It was dark and it was raining. (More rain in my dream!) Someone living at the house opened the door and I collapsed inside, drenched from the rain and out of breath because my journey had been so long and physically draining. And while I was on the floor, catching my breath, the person who opened the door, along with his family who gathered around, kept asking me, “What’s wrong?”

Then in the final scene – the one where the funny thing happened – I had Jesse with me and we met with my mom. Then my grandmother showed up. We sat down to have coffee (Jesse drank something else). (I have had a dream like this before, where my mother and I would be sitting at this table, drinking coffee and talking. I miss my mother so much but it’s always a nice comfort when she visits me in my dreams. Same thing when I see my grandmother.) Jesse struck up a conversation with my grandmother. At one point, he told her something funny. At first, I was trying to hide my laughter, but my mom saw this and gave me a look like she was saying, “Settle down. We’re trying to have coffee.” But, oh, I just lost it. I started cracking up over what Jesse had said. He had said this thing in complete innocence, he was talking about chickens, but, well, put another way, it was just hilarious. I laughed so hard in the dream and, yeah, I was still laughing when I woke up. (Sorry, Mom and Grandma. Let’s have that coffee another time!)

Well, it took me a while to calm down from that dream. A LONG while. I was laughing about it in bed and still laughing after I got up to get some water. And I was STILL laughing about it when I went back to bed. (I’m laughing about it now as I type this! It was just too funny.)

I am glad that this happened. Sure, it disrupted my sleep, but it sure gave me a good laugh. I went to bed feeling all depressed and sad last night so I’m glad I was able to wake up smiling and filled with laughter.

A very blessed Christmas

I was dreading the approach of Christmas, let alone Christmas Eve. Sure, we were all excited about Christmas coming up, but it’s so hard to get through the holidays with my mom being gone. I keep telling myself that I can STILL “talk” to my mom on Christmas; it’ll just have to be with my heart. But that doesn’t make it any easier. And the fact that I had an emotional breakdown over the weekend and just cried my heart out because I miss my mom so much did not help, either.

But here we are, at Christmas. And I’ve managed okay so far. It has definitely been a big help to have some wonderful friends around who have offered comfort and support. I’m so glad we got to see them in the days leading up to Christmas. Seeing these dear friends again just warmed my heart and it was good to have a shoulder to lean on, too. They are awesome friends and I am so grateful they are in our lives!

I ended up waking up at 4 a.m. today. I ALWAYS wake up first on Christmas, which is a good thing because I usually have extra little gifties to slip into stockings. But the reason why I woke up so early was because I was really thirsty. I got up to get a glass of water, let the dog out and to put the stocking stuffers into their designated stockings. After all that, I went back to bed, hoping to get some more sleep. But a sadness came over my heart as I lied in my darkened bedroom. I whispered to the darkness, “Merry Christmas, Mom.” I stayed still just for a bit, thinking of how much I wished I could hug her, then just as I looked down, I was surprised to see the back of someone walking past my open door! At first, I thought it was Jennifer, because this was a female with short brown hair, but the thing of it was ... this “person” was all white and transparent! A lit-up kind of person! Like an angel.

No way, I thought. It’s Jennifer. Jennifer is awake. That’s it.

I climbed out of bed and walked out of my room. I hurriedly went through the hall and saw no one in the family or living room. I went through the kitchen, the entry way and the other rooms. No one was there.

I went back to bed, thinking this over. Had I really just seen what I thought I’d seen? And had it been who I thought it was?

Well, I liked to think so. That was a nice thought.

Eventually, I did go back to sleep. I had a very disturbing dream, though. I dreamed I walked out to the Christmas tree and saw a woman’s face in one of the ornaments. Her face was very transparent, almost like a ghost. She had short light-colored hair. The image faded then I was back in my room. I was in bed trying to sleep but a strange sensation came over me that kept shaking me. Like something was possessing me. When I awoke from that dream, I saw a red bar on my wall.

Now, I must confess, I have been nervous about the Christmas tree suddenly catching on fire the whole time it’s been there. So I was alarmed when I saw that red light on my wall, thinking that was a reflection from a fire down the hallway! I raced out of my room to look around the house but, thankfully, there was no fire. Phew! Then I thought maybe there was a fire at my neighbor’s house. I opened the blinds to look out the window, but no, no fire! I was relieved but really puzzled. I went back to bed, back to sleep.
 

When I awoke again, I decided I’d gotten enough sleep so I got out of bed for good. And, wouldn’t you know, that was the same time Jesse woke up! We wished each other a Merry Christmas then woke Jennifer up. Then we woke their father up. We all trudged out to the living room (well, Jesse RAN out to the living room!), sat down and decided who would play Santa this year. That decision made, we all proceeded to open our gifts.

If I had any ounce of sadness left, it disappeared as I watched my children open their gifts. There was just so much joy and happiness among us all during that time. We were all excited and happy with our gifts. Jesse got a new bike and Jennifer got a bunch of Doctor Who stuff. I got an espresso machine, JCPenney gift card, chocolates, a wolf picture, new purse and the movie Argo. I was bummed that I didn't get any books or a gift card for books, but later I got free ebooks via Smashwords and that made me happy. Thank you, Smashwords!

After the gift thing and thanking people for our gifts, I made breakfast of bacon and cinnamon rolls. Then I took Jesse next door to give his friend a Christmas gift as well as a tin of cookies to our friends. After that, Jennifer left with her dad to hand out cookies she baked for the homeless.

Last night, Jen and her dad baked a cake for our Christmas dessert, and it’s back to the kitchen for me to make our Christmas dinner of ham, potatoes, corn and dinner rolls. We can’t wait to watch the Doctor Who Christmas special tonight, and I’ll be drinking a delicious espresso while I watch it.


Today turned out to be a good one, filled with family, friends and a little bit of Christmas magic. I am also glad my 20-year-old Chihuahua was able to spend just one more Christmas with us.

Merry Christmas! 

"Thanks for having me."

Last night, I dreamed that I was murdered. This was not the first time I have had such a dream. I have had many dreams where someone took my life, but also dreams in which I have drowned. So dreaming about my death happening in some way or another is not unusual for me – though I must say this was the first time I have dreamed of being murdered twice in one night. I had two dreams last night, one in which a crazed ax-murderer broke into our home and killed both my husband and me, and the second in which a serial killer killed one of my sisters and me, by slitting our throats. The fact that I had two such dreams in one night is very strange.

In the second dream, I was asking my killer why she killed me. My sister was saying there was so much more she still wanted to do in life, and I was saying there was so much more that I wanted to write. This is also interesting, because just yesterday, I was thinking about what I would do with all of my unfinished books and still-to-be-written books should I leave this world before they are all done. Of course, I am trying to work my way through them all as fast as I can, but I know that I may die before they are all done. I am convinced that, if I don’t write a particular book, then someone else will write it. But this was what my killer said in response: “You'll still get to write them. You’ll be writing books and articles while you are a ghost!”

Another interesting thing happened in that dream. Normally, a person who has a slit throat has only seconds left to live. This was not the case in my dream. As my sister started looking for her kids so that she could hug them one last time (we were at a grocery store when this happened), I, who did not have my children with me, did something else: I looked for a computer. I wanted to post my very last post on this blog, saying goodbye to everyone. Well, instead of a computer, I found this group of men who had a phone with Internet access, and when I told one of them I needed to post on my blog, he set it up for me on his phone. I started typing my post, describing what happened and describing my killer (what I can remember is that there was something German about her – German accent, or something). When the guy realized I’d been attacked and what I was doing, he started asking about where it’d happened and I explained things. There was one guy who heard all this and took off to where the attack had happened, probably to help my sister. Meanwhile, another guy noticed I was slowing down. Blood was pooling in my throat and I was fading. He took over typing. In what voice I had left, I told him what to type for me. And at the end, I was, like, “Goodbye, world. Thanks for having me.”

After I woke up from that dream, I could only sit there in silence. I was very moved that someone helped me to do that, even though this was just a dream and that guy only existed in my dream. But it was still an emotional thing for me, that someone would help a dying person say goodbye on her blog as she lay dying. I wonder if such a thing has ever really happened.

I also thought about my message. It seems like something I would really say if I was indeed writing my very last blog post. I’d want to thank everyone who was my friend, who loved me, who made life better and happier just by being there. I’d want to let my loved ones know I’d always be there for them even after I died, and that I was sad to leave them but would not want them to be sad I was gone. My journey came to an end. My time in this world was up. This life I was supposed to live has reached the final page and it was time to move on.  I have always told my children that death is not the end; it is only a transition. Death does not mean goodbye forever. But I'd want them to know that I loved them all dearly, all my friends and family, and would want them to know that I would carry this love for them with me. I would want to say that I was grateful to everyone who accepted me into their lives despite my faults, despite my scars, despite my mistakes, and remained my friend no matter what. Thank you to everyone who forgave and forgot, and who showed kindness and compassion despite everything. 

And, yes, I also would also want to say what I said in that dream. “Goodbye, world. Thanks for having me.”

Rape and unwanted pregnancies

Sometimes I think I really SHOULD take a break from reading the news. Specifically, anything that has to do with politics.

I say that because I think maybe the whole debate over "rape rarely resulting in a pregnancy" has affected me too much. When all that fuss happened and it was in the news, I just shrugged it off like I do most of the stupid ideas politicians throw around. But it turned into a BIG issue and soon everyone everywhere was talking about it. It got to the point where I didn’t so much fume over the idiocy of it all (because, YES, a pregnancy CAN result from a rape! Rape is STILL sex!), I got angry over how men thought they had the power to decide what a woman could and could not do with her body (since all of this had to do with the issue of birth control and abortions).

Well, I really think that was getting to me. Especially after what I read in a book yesterday.

In a book I am currently reading, a woman shared a story of how a man came to her house and told her she was pregnant. He also told her the baby would be a boy. The woman did not know if she was pregnant but, after this, she went to the doctor and he confirmed she was less than a month pregnant. This made me wonder if the woman had been trying to get pregnant – maybe she would have known? But what if she hadn’t been trying? What if she and her husband had not been having intercourse and she was not expecting to get pregnant? What if she had been impregnated without being aware of this?

Well, as a writer, I always wonder such things. “What if, what if.”

Then last night, I had a strange dream. I dreamed about a bunch of women who HAD been impregnated without their consent. Somehow or another, they had been impregnated, and all of them were about to give birth. But something was wrong; the babies weren’t right. The pregnancies had put them at a serious health risk and had made their bodies EXTREMELY sensitive to the touch.

And somehow I knew these babies had been created for the sole purpose of genetic testing. Whoever was in charge of all of this were going to use the babies for research and testing, and that some of them might not live. These people were not there, but the women’s families were with them and supporting them as they cried out in pain before delivery.

That dream was really creepy. But it was scary, too. These women had unwillingly become pregnant. And it made me think of how some women are forced to become pregnant when they don’t want to be pregnant – like through a rape, for example.

I know that some women would choose to abort the pregnancy that resulted from a rape, but not a lot of women would do this. Some of them CAN’T do this. I know I would not do this, but only because I’m pro-life. They say that a child should not be blamed for a rape. It’s not the baby’s fault if it is the result of a rape, and should not be punished by having its life ended. Of course, putting the baby up for adoption is a very good alternative, especially with so many women out there who CAN’T have children but want a baby so desperately.

The dream made me think about that, especially with that issue going on in the news. What happens when a woman is impregnated against her will? Is it better to keep the baby or give it up?

I thought about that a lot today, especially asking myself what I would do. It really is a personal decision. And because I come from a family with siblings from a different father, I would not be against keeping the baby. Some people might think this is a bad idea, because what if the kid grows up to be a rapist like Daddy? Are we able to break that cycle?

As far as I know, I don’t know anyone who is the product of a rape. I know of a fictional someone, though: Olivia Benson of Law & Order:SVU. Then I think about that and how maybe a child who is the result of a rape may actually grow up to be a good person. Maybe we CAN stop the cycle. Stop the damage.

Or, here’s an idea: Get to the root of the problem and make it easier for a woman to avoid becoming pregnant because of a rape. Make it possible for women to ensure that such a thing will not happen to them. I like that idea even better.

Summertime activities! Day 2

Today was Day 2 of the summer activities I have planned for the kids. My back and hip were REALLY bothering me last night (we’re talking radiating pain jolting up my spine kind of pain) so I was not able to blog about Day 1 last night. So! Here is Day 2!

Since we were going to do something science-y today, Jennifer wanted the theme to be "static electricity." So when it came time for that, I read to the kids these kid-friendly pages I printed out about static electricity. They had fun charging a comb and watching the cereal on a thread move close to it, as well as “bending water” with a charged comb. Then they logged in at BrainPOP.com to learn more about static electricity.

While there are positive things resulting from these activities, such as the kids learning new things and working on their math/reading skills, it hasn’t exactly been smooth sailing.

For one thing, I have come down with a cold and it’s a struggle dragging myself out of bed in the mornings when I just wanna STAY there and be a sickie. I thought Jesse caught my cold for a while there (he had a bad couple of days) but today he seemed okay. I hope he stays okay! But I wouldn’t be surprised if he caught my cold, too.

For another thing, we’ve been off schedule for two days in a row. Everything is supposed to start at 9:30, but it’s a struggle getting Jennifer (the night owl) up in the mornings. She is NOT a morning person. So we’ve started late.

Also, the kids haven’t EXACTLY been getting along very well. The kids have been fighting and there’s been a lot of drama. Today, after it got so bad that Jennifer tore up Jesse’s picture, I declared activity time was over and the both of them had to be separated for a while so they could cool off.

And, finally, it’s been a challenge for me, personally, trying to do housework and work with the kids during these activities. I fit stuff in here and there – for example, yesterday I folded a load of laundry while lunch cooked and today I made up the beds while the kids took a quiz on the BrainPOP site about static electricity – but not as much got done as usual. I do try to make up for that after we’re done for the day.

Overall, though, it has been fun and it’s definitely kept the kids from having a “boring” summer vacation. Tomorrow is “history” and even though it is technically a holiday, technically not a day for “school stuff” and technically our “family day” during which I’ll be off the computer, we still want to do history. It’s a good opportunity to talk about why we celebrate the 4th of July and what it means to be a free country.

We are looking forward to “craft day” coming up. This week, for music, we have been exploring making music with musical toys. Next week, we’ll make music with homemade instruments. We don’t have many, so we’re going to make more on “craft day.” And Jennifer is excited about “cooking day” coming up. She wants to make something with zucchini. (She is a budding chef.)

I have still managed to fit in time for the writing and book reviewing here and there, as well. Today, however, my muse has been rebelling and because I’m feeling so yucky, I told my muse, “Rebel away.” I’ll get back to it when I am able.

Today Jennifer has learned about “Bloody Mary.” She got really freaked out about it and asked if it was true. I laughed and told her it’s just an urban legend. She says she still wants to do it. I told her to go for it. I just hope she doesn’t learn about “Bloody Mary” the movie. I don’t think that’s a movie she should see.

Last night in my dream, I saw Jonathan Knight at a kid’s birthday party. He was dressed up as a train conductor and entertaining a group of kids. Because I follow him on Twitter, I was tempted to tweet to him, “You look cute dressed up as a train conductor.” But given what happened the last time I replied to one of his tweets, decided to pass on that.

Yeah, I send tweets to people I don’t know on Twitter. I do that all the time. Even respond to tweets from people I don’t know. Is that so terrible? Not that I even HAVE as much time to be on Twitter, as it is. But I’m on there sometimes. Or make it a point to be on there.

ANYWAY!

Recently, I read an article on strange things people do with ice cream. It mentioned the Ben & Jerry's flavor "Late Night Snack," which has chocolate covered potato chips in it. When I shared that article on Facebook, I noted that I wanted to try it. Happened to see it at the store the other day and it is REALLY good! Who knew that chocolate-covered potato chips in ice cream could be yummy?? Jesse was the only one brave enough to taste it and he likes it, too. So he and I are the only ones in this house who like it. (Jennifer won't go near it!) The ice cream is very soothing to my sore throat. Ah, that is one good thing about having a sore throat. You have an excuse to eat ice cream!

And just for the record, that TV show Good Luck, Charlie rocks! I love that show. I was excited to find out today that there will be a new episode on the 15th. Yay!! The little girl who plays Charlie is ADORABLE. And the new baby is soo cute!!

Personal note to Jennifer: I liked that song "Don't Run Away" too. Well, as far as the lyrics go! And I forgot to tell you that I have a poem in a book called "Run Away." But it's about domestic abuse. So when that book comes out and after you read the poem "Run Away," you can listen to that song "Don't Run Away." Ha!

Have a happy and safe 4th, peoples. Peace out!

Rosie

Yesterday, I started reading the book Dreaming of the Dead by Marilou Trask-Curtin. It is a nonfiction book. The author shares her experiences of how she has had dreams where her loved ones have visited her. She also talks about how she even has dreams where her beloved pets she has lost have visited her in her dreams. These dreams always made her happy because it was such a joy to her to see her pets so happy and healthy, even young.

As I read that part of the book yesterday, I started to reflect on how I have had the same experiences. I have seen pets in my dreams. My dog, Lukas, an Australian Shepherd, has been in a lot of my dreams. I have also seen family pets, such as my sister’s dog, Baby Bop, a chihuahua, in my dreams. I was thinking of how I cherished these dreams, especially the ones with Lukas because he was such an awesome dog. (And so was Rascal, an Australian Queensland.) But at the same time, I was a little sad because I have not had such dreams for a long time. And I miss my animal friends so much.

Well, it seems that one of them may have picked up on that, because I dreamed about her last night.

My mom used to have a dog, a chihuahua, named Rosie. Well, her name was Rosarita, but we all called her “Rosie.” Sometimes I called her “Rosie girl.” She was an amazing dog and we all loved her so much. (She is the mother of Baby Bop and my dog, Chewbacca.) Sometimes, we almost lost Rosie – to heat exhaustion (since we lived in the desert), dehydration or starvation (when someone in the family neglected her when she was at his house). But she always beat the odds and came back kicking. And because my mom moved a lot, it was very confusing for Rosie. She’d often leave a new home and end up at the old house. Many times this happened and, fortunately, we were able to find her.

Unfortunately, her luck did not hold out. One day she wandered off after a recent move and we never saw her again. We never found her. We searched for days and asked around for her, but nobody saw her and she just didn’t turn up.

This was very hard for all of us. I was no longer living at home at this time, so I don’t know how my mother coped with this. But on the times I visited her, I knew she was sad about it and asking if anybody had seen Rosie.

Then, I guess, we pretty much accepted she was gone. She never came back. My parents moved out of state and those who stayed in the desert never said anything since about seeing Rosie.

Well, last night, I did get to see our sweet Rosie again. Last night, she was in my dream.

I dreamed I was walking through one of the houses my mom lived in and I was calling for Rosie. I came to a room that had a lot of bedding on the floor. After I called Rosie’s name, a tiny figure emerged from under a white sheet. There came Rosie happily charging up to me. I laughed and got to my knees as I took her into my arms. She was so happy, so healthy and a little younger, too. She just licked my face a lot and I started to cry tears of joy and happiness as I hugged her. (I wasn’t surprised she was under a sheet; she often curled up under blankets and sheets on my mom’s bed.)

I still had tears in my eyes as I woke up from that dream. I kept crying because I missed Rosie so much. I was a little sad because of what had happened to her and the questions unanswered – was she ok? Did someone take care of her? – were still lingering with me. I was sad but happy, too.

And at the same time, I knew one thing: There is a very strong possibility that Rosie is no longer among the living. Thinking bout it, it would be a huge miracle if she was. I mean, Chewie is over 120 years old in dog years! So I don’t think chances are good his mom is still alive.

I am just glad I got to see her again, if only in a dream. And if only it was the final time I would see her again, until we all get to be reunited with her one day at the Rainbow Bridge.

God bless you, Rosie girl. I still miss you and love you. I’ll never forget you. You will always have a special place in my heart.

Messages from Beyond

A funny thing happened not too long ago. I kept calling my daughter's coach "Kim." Now what's so funny about that, you might ask? Her name is not "Kim." It's actually another "K" name, but I'd rather not write it here since this is a public blog and she's kinda/sorta appeared in a T-ball pic or two on here.

Anyway! I thought it was very odd indeed that I kept calling her "Kim." It was completely by accident. And I kept trying to figure out, what's up with that??

But I kinda/sorta had a clue.

Before this started happening, I came across a book at the bookstore which I desperately wanted to buy: Animals and the Afterlife: True Stories of Our Best Friends' Journey Beyond Death by Kim Sheridan Ph.D. I have long been fascinated by animal ghosts and animals in the afterlife ever since my beloved dog Lukas, an Australian Shepherd, died and I started to hear (yes, HEAR!) a knocking at my door. Nobody was at the door, of course. Shortly afterward, I learned that there's a folktale about how our animal friends are known to come visit us in spirit, and make their presence known by knocking at your door. (One person who lost their dog often heard scratching at the back door and no one and nothing was there. The dog was buried in the back yard.) (Psst! You can read more stories like this in my Shadowlands article that's in the June issue!)

Sadly, I was not able to buy the book at the time I saw it, because I didn't have enough money. Then that whole business of accidentally calling my daughter's coach "Kim" happened. I started to think, is it because the author of that book is named Kim??

Well, I think maybe that's why, because after I bought the book (yay!), I stopped calling her "Kim." Yay! (I was starting to feel like I was my mother. She used to go through ALL seven names of us kids before she got to the right one, when she was talking to us. For the longest time, I could've sworn my name was Elizabeth-Jeanette-Troy-Melissa-Neal-Millie-Dawn. Just call me "Dawn" for short! LOL)

So I've been reading this book. It is VERY GOOD! My husband, being the eternal skeptic, would take one look at the stuff in here and declare all of it a lie. (I, personally, seriously DOUBT that, number one, the author would be so foolish as to ruin her good name/business by writing a book of lies and that, number two, all of the people who have given their real names in this book, along with their web site URLs, are telling tall tales.) I believe every word of it. And I am astounded by all of the stories in this book. Wow! It's definitely worth the price. Not only does it convince me that our animal friends do indeed exist on the Other Side (take THAT, you skeptics who say that animals have no souls!) but it is also a comfort to me. Even today, I still miss Lukas, as well as my other animal friends. (I have also had rats and cats as companions.) And sometimes I have dreamed of other pets who have moved on. So reading this book makes me feel comforted knowing that Lukas is still here, in some way, some form.

And I had to wonder, is THIS why I really needed to buy this book? Is this the reason why this book just HAD to be in my hands??

I kept pondering this. Why was it so important for me to read this book? What message was it supposed to give to me? Aside from the reassurance that animals DO exist on the Other Side, and that Lukas is still here.

I thought on this for many days, even as I kept reading the book.

Then I came across something in the book. A woman received a direct message from God. NOT that she saw God Himself. But the message was given to her from Him.

So I thought, maybe this is what I needed to see. This woman's message from the Lord.

But I will tell you, it is not the first time I have read about someone receiving a message from God. I myself had angels in my dreams telling me things, among them a message from God. And I have even heard God say things to me. (One of the things He commented on was His disapproval over greed being the driving force behind a writing career.) I look at these messages people have received, and I can recall reading Bible quotes that match them somehow or another.

Of course, I know we can't believe everything we read. We ALL could use a healthy dose of skepticism if we are going to expose ourselves to what people are saying/writing/publishing. But I do think that some of the things I have read about messages from God do make sense. I mean, especially since some Bible quotes back them up. And I don't see why people would say such lies, or something.

And I think, wow, this is really something important God wants us to know!

So, to sum up, here are messages from God which I have come across both in my dreams and in my readings:

1. God does not hate.

2. God loves ALL women.

3. Love and take care of the Earth.

4. Love and take care of the animals.

5. Love one another.

I guess all of that can be identified with one common saying about God: God is love.

Unwritten rules

There seems to be some kind of unwritten rule which states, "Anytime Mommy gets sick, the house goes to pot."

I was reminded of this today. I have been a little sick with the flu for a couple of days. Today I finally started feeling better -- and I kinda started to wish I had an excuse to crawl back into bed. The house was a disaster area.

Spent most of today cleaning and getting the house back in order. I think my back is hurting on account of all the baskets of laundry I was carrying around. Ugh.

But I also found a small window of time to fix up a chapter in the Revisions book. I wanted to add something else to it, but was not able to finish because I couldn't get very good information about this topic on the 'Net. I'll have to either try the library or bookstore to see if I can dig up the information I need.

Also found the time to read a magazine article in the recent issue of the DPPi Journal. I didn't finish reading it, though, because I got a little angry over how the writer kept going on about how deafness is genetic. Hello! I'm living proof that deafness is NOT genetic! So are my kids. I became deaf because I caught an illness that caused my deafness. My children are both hearing children. Of course, that fact may not be sufficient to refute the writer's claim, since I was not genetically rendered deaf, but it's still proof it's not genetic. (I would need to look into this matter further. Back in the day that I was writing for SIGNews, I did come across reports of studies being done to determine if deafness is genetic. I don't recall many of the results the tests showed, so I would need to revisit this to see if there is anything new on the subject.)

There is another unwritten rule about what happens when one person in a family gets sick. Someone else in the family is likely to get sick, too. Jesse woke up at 6 this morning, crying pretty bad. The first thing I noticed about him as I picked him up was that he was VERY HOT! I removed his pajamas (leaving on his onesie), changed him, took his temperature (it was 101!) and gave him Infant Tylenol. After that, I gave him a sippee cup of water and rocked him as he drank from it. When I put him back in bed, he slept for about four hours and seemed to be fine. But I have kept an eye on him today and so far, nothing more serious than a fever.

I'm still feeling pretty yucky -- got some head congestion, sore throat, pain in my neck and minor body aches -- but I'm just glad to be able to think straight again and be aware of my surroundings. It's no fun being sick. And it's also no fun having to clean up a neglected house because of being sick.

Last night, I dreamed that we were on our way somewhere. It was me, my husband and the kids in the car. It was snowing and the streets were covered with snow. At one point, my husband dropped me off at the curb and Jennifer got out of the car to hug me goodbye. I started to walk away then looked back to see her climb back into the car and then as my husband drove them away. I was walking down the sidewalk. I eventually came to a street I recognized. I walked up to the house, full of anticipation. It was my grandmother's house and she was having a Christmas party. The house was beautifully decorated on the outside, with Christmas lights and decorations. I knocked at the door then, as I waited, I hurriedly removed the hair band that held my hair up in a bun. I wanted to put my hair down because I know it looks better down. When my hair is up, my burn scars are showing and they're like THE thing that people see. And people, including family members, have said it looks better when my hair was down. And I started to feel self-conscious about that. I tried to cover my scars with my long hair.

A cousin on my mom's side answered the door. She let me in and I started to greet everyone. It was so wonderful to see everyone again. People I haven't seen in ages. And I was still nervous about my scars. trying to use my hair to cover them up. But they all had an attitude like, "This is how Dawn looks!" None of them cared about the scars.

I didn't see my grandmother in the dream, though. I was making my way through the house to her, but awoke before I got to her. Which made me sad, really. I miss her so much. She passed away over 15 years ago and I still miss her terribly. Sometimes she has been in my dreams, which I am grateful for. I always cherish those dreams I have in which I will see a departed or long-lost loved one.

Dream creepiness

On weekday mornings, when I'm up and getting Jennifer ready for school, I leave the TV on the channel that airs Good Morning America. I watch that show almost every day. Sometimes during the show, the local news comes on. It also comes on before GMA.

After I showered and got dressed this morning, I sat on the couch to tie my shoes, watching the local news that comes on before GMA. At one point, I looked up to see a story of a local man being charged with sexual assault. Three women have testified against him in the case. He is also accused of murdering someone.

When I saw this man's face, my heart froze and a shudder ran down my spine.

After the alarm went off this morning, I fell back asleep for about a half hour and had a dream. For some reason or another, I was in the carport and I was totally nude! I was trying to hide the fact that I wasn't wearing anything, ducking against the wall as several cars drove by out on the street. (Sometimes, I really hate living on a busy street.) Anyway, at one point, I heard music playing, then looked up to see this man come into the carport. He was bald and wearing black sunglasses. He was dancing as he approached me then he grabbed my arms and pulled me up. He tried to rape me and I was wriggling from his arms and screaming, "No! No!"

That scared me so bad, I woke up. And you know what scared me even more?

That man I saw on the news was the SAME MAN in my dream! EEK!! He wasn't wearing sunglasses during the trial, of course. But he had the same exact kind of head and shoulder outline. And later, after I got a newspaper, I saw his picture in the newspaper. All I had to do was put those same black sunglasses on his face and that was enough to make me shudder and nervously pace around in the kitchen until I finally gave myself a mental shake of the shoulders and screamed at myself with my internal voice, "GET A GRIP!"

It was only a dream. It wasn't real. I hate having violent dreams like that. But what bothered me the most was that I had that dream and I ended up seeing that same exact face on the news shortly after I awoke! GAH!

It's not uncommon for weird things to happen in our dreams. I mean, anything can happen. After all, it IS the dream state! But sometimes, we can only wonder if there is something more about dreams than just our imagination. Some people believe that we can have out-of-body experiences in our dreams. Some believe that we can perform astral travel while we dream. And then, of course, there are the dreams we have in which departed loved ones have visited us. (Read an article I did about this for Shadowlands: Ghost Dreams: The Good and Bad of Ghostly Visitations in Our Sleep)

And, of course, people who know me or have read Martha Jette's book, Glimpses 2: It could happen to you, are aware of my dream experiences with a man named Jonathan.

All kinds of bizarre and creepy things can happen in our dreams...

This also reminds me of something I said in an email I sent to my sister recently:

Want to hear something creepy? I don't know if you're familiar with the book In Cold Blood, but it is based on a true story. Two drifters killed these parents and two of their 4 children in Kansas. Anyway, in the book, one woman interviewed said she had this dream of the girl, Nancy (age 16), and she heard her saying, "No! No! Please! No!" And I found out later that that is exactly what the girl said right before she was murdered!! Creepier still: Another woman who knew the mother saw her in a dream and she was saying, "There is nothing worse than being murdered."

This makes me wonder if there are any books containing stories of dream oddities or how someone's dream came true or something like that. I am aware of Sylvia Browne's Book of Dreams, but I am curious if there are similar books with stories like that. Might be something interesting to read. If not a little creepy.

Don't ignore the message

I'm going to have to cut down on the blogging.

This is the message I got last night, from a dream. Yes, a DREAM! Of all things. Now I'm not one to just....ignorantly follow every old suggestion which a dream makes. After all, my first opinion of what dreams are is that they are a reflection of our self. Of our...psyche, or whatever you want to call it. But sometimes, I think, dreams can be a useful self-help tool. Especially since I hardly have ANYONE with whom I can consult on a variety of matters!

I mention this because, the other night, I dreamed that someone was telling me I shouldn't say a certain....swear word that I had often been saying. (Unfortunately, in my verbal speech, I tend to swear like a sailor. Bad habit, I know! I'm still a work-in-progress, folks.) The person in my dream said it was bad to say that word, because it took God's name in vain. And God wasn't happy about that! After I awoke from the dream, I was frightened because that word was just a normal part of my "normal" vocabulary. :P And I didn't know how I would stop myself from saying it. But I started praying on that. And I'm hoping that will help me to REMEMBER not to say that word.

Yeah, I do believe what the man in my dream said. I mean, it makes sense that the..."G-D" word takes the Lord's name in vain. Although I hadn't realized it before. I thought it was like saying, "God, damn this thing!" But I guess...not?

Anyway. There's another dream I had with a "message" I didn't ignore. A dream in which an angel told me "God loves all women." This dream came about during a time I was struggling with my religious convictions. I really had issues with the whole "women are EVIL!" message the Bible kept promoting. And how women are undervalued in so many religions and considered to be nothing more than mere slaves and breeders. That we weren't special. But when I had this dream, in which the angel also told me "God does not hate," it really moved me. You know? Now THAT was a message I couldn't ignore! I didn't care what people said or how a Bible story was told. I BELIEVED the angel in my dream that God loves us! He loves ALL women, young and old, black and white, rich and poor, Christian and Jewish. He loves ALL of us just as equally as men!

In the dream I had last night, I was living in a different house. I was at the computer, typing up a blog post on MS Word (although I normally use Notepad LOL). Then some men I didn't know came into the room. There were two of them. They were behind me and I turned to see them. One of them smiled and said, "Look at her. She's writing a story!"

"What are you writing, Dawn?" the other asked.

And I just....stared at them. Just blankly looked at them. I hadn't been working on a story. I had been writing up a blog post. But I didn't want to say THAT. They seemed so excited over me writing another story. Over creating something new for them to read.

But I wasn't writing a story. Apparently, I was wasting my time writing a blog post! When they were expecting a story! And I felt guilty. I felt so....disappointed with myself. I SHOULD have been writing a story! I got a bazillion story ideas WAITING to be created! Why don't I just WRITE them??? Forget about people saying "it's not realistic" or about me thinking "I can't write THAT!" I should just write them anyway!! JUST WRITE THEM! And stop making excuses NOT to write them...

But blogging was taking up all my free time now. Not writing, BLOGGING. And I have just been spending way too much time on my blogs. I should spend LESS time blogging and MORE time writing!

That is the message from my dream. I won't ignore this message. And why did this dream come about in the first place, anyway? Because lately, my husband has been complaining that I'm blogging too much. Instead of blogging, he argues, which IS a hobby, I should be working on my books instead. And he has a good point. I won't argue with him there. He's right. I WAS blogging too much! And my writing was just...getting so neglected. I have the tendency to obsess over things and get addicted to things. (I forget what that personality type is called....) And for a while, blogging was my addiction.

But I'm not going to let it be my addiction anymore. I CAN'T! There is just too much work I have to do! Too many books I want to write! Too many stories I want to get written! Too many manuscript edits I have left to do!

So I'm going to DO them! Cut down on the blogging and get more writing done. That is the message from my dream. That is the message which I won't ignore.

Missing him

(Note: An introduction
http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.jsp?articleId=281474976758599 )

There are a lot of pains that I carry. Some are easier for me to carry than others. But there is one pain I have that will never go away: Living life without my one true love.

I know that there are people who have opinions about this. And they'd like to use those opinions to silence me on this subject. But, I will not be silent. I will not! I know what is true. I know what I went through... And I know that he is real. I believe in him. And I always will believe in him. He will always, ALWAYS be a part of me, a part of my life.

The "him" I speak of is Jonathan. The man in my dreams. But he was more than just someone in my dreams. No, I no longer believe that someone who LOOKS like him and shares his name is him. I refuse to believe this. It's just not possible. But what I mean is...I know that Jonathan and I once shared a life together. In a previous lifetime. Our love has survived even death. Even though we are not together in this lifetime, he found me. He found some way to get through to me. And I know that someday....maybe I will find him. Maybe our roles will be reversed and it is I who will visit his dreams.

If the whole thing wasn't some kind of story, it should be. It does have the elements of a story, doesn't it? Well, it's all true. It's a TRUE STORY. It REALLY happened. People who don't believe in this kind of thing probably suspect I have something wrong with me. There are people who just don't believe in these kinds of things. That this kind of thing could possibly happen. Well, it happened to me. And I stand by it.

It's so hard to live it, though. You can't imagine how painful it can be to live your life without your true love there in this world with you. Well, I imagine I am not the only one to be separated from my true love. But it is indeed a pain unlike any other. My arms ache to hold him, even though I never REALLY held him and will never get to until this life ends. I yearn to be close to him, to look into his eyes and touch his hands. These are part of the pain that I live with.

Another part of that pain is guilt. Guilt over....marrying another. I know in one of the dreams, Jonathan and I DID marry. But that's not here or there. (Nevertheless, I still acknowledge him as my husband, even though it was in "just a dream." Perhaps the dream was representative of past events or of the degree of love and commitment we share for each other, but the bond we share shall never break.) In this lifetime, I am married to someone else. I feel guilty, but I know that I must do what I must do in this life. I must do what is expected of me, both as a Christian and as a woman. I must do what is right.

And that also is a painful reminder. Doing what is right. I know that in helping Jonathan to cross over, to go home, it was the right thing to do. But I did that out of love and not out of duty. I wanted him to be happy and have peace. Not wander the earth or...through dimensions anymore. It was painful to do this, because doing this meant he would not be in my dreams anymore. He would be home. I miss seeing him in my dreams.... It was the closest we could have to sharing some kind of "world" or "life" together. Now we don't have that anymore. And I have nothing except the memories to remind me of him.

And I have our love. No matter what happens, and no matter what people say, I am always going to love him. And I suppose I am always going to miss him, too. I have accepted that I will never see him with my eyes in this lifetime. Oh, I'll see pictures of that someone who LOOKS like him....but that won't be him. I have accepted that this pain of missing him is one that I must carry with me. I may write poems inspired by our love....I may occasionally shed a tear or whisper his name when that pain gets to be too much to bear...but I know that this path in life is one I must walk, and walk alone.

These dreams (and fears)

Well, it finally happened: I had the "baby born early" dream last night. With all that's been going on with this pregnancy, I keep worrying about the baby being born early. Especially with the Braxton-Hicks contractions being so strong sometimes, and the lower abdominal pain being so intense. Last night, I was dealing with such pain, and in between gasping and gritting my teeth, I used deep breathing to help me deal with it. Amazingly, deep breathing did the trick. (I am still so surprised when deep breathing helps alleviate the pain in my stomach or even in my back. I know it's one common method of helping pain, that it's been used for centuries, but I still have never understood how it works.) Anyway, while I was having that pain, I was lying there praying that it wasn't a labor pain.

So, it's not surprising I had the dream I had last night. In my dream, I was in the passenger seat of a car, clutching my stomach and screaming in pain, in the throes of labor. Hubby was driving me to the hospital. A cop tried to pull him over for speeding and he was yelling out the window as he pointed at me, "Hospital!" Hearing this, the cop escorted us to the hospital, but I blacked out before we got there. When I awoke, I was in a hospital bed, and still pregnant. I slowly got out of the bed, despite all the tubes and everything attached to me, and I was walking around the room, confused. Somehow or another, the hospital had stopped labor, but I was still so confused. I didn't know if I was going to be safe, if the baby was going to be safe, if I was even HAVING the baby anymore now, etc.

When I was pregnant with Jennifer, I had A LOT of "worry dreams" about her. I dreamed she was born with one eye (I gave birth to a Cyclops!), that she never cried after she was born (maybe that was a sign she'd never go through colic, which thankfully she never did!), that I'd lost her, that someone kidnapped her from the hospital, etc. I had ALL the worry dreams of pregnancy. I've rarely had any with this one. In fact, this is only the second one! In the first one, I dreamed that I wasn't able to handle the job of caring for 2 kids -- and Jennifer was the one to suffer because of that. (I know the baby will need more attention and care than my little 6-year-old will, but still, that dream was depressing.)

On the other hand, I've had quite a tough go with this pregnancy. Maybe because this one is my last! Heh. So in that way, I have more worries going on on the outside, rather than on the inside. (I had an easy pregnancy with Jennifer. The only bad thing to happen was when I got a tear in the amniotic sac after lifting heavy boxes, but even then it was not a "crisis" because it healed soon enough.)

This whole thing makes me wonder about other "worry dreams" pregnant women have had. I once saw a thread about this on a pregnancy message board online, but that was long ago and I'm curious about it again. Maybe I'll try doing an online search and see what turns up. At least I know it's only my fears causing these dreams. I AM afraid of having the baby early. There's only 2 more months to go, but all the same, it'd be NICE if I can carry this baby to term without any surprises.

Or should I say...any OTHER surprises.

Making my dreams come true

I'm a firm believer in living the life you want to live. Even though I am not a famous author, I conduct my writing business as though I am, at least, an IMPORTANT writer. I don't allow room for self-doubt, fear or negativity to get in the way I conduct myself with other authors and editors. I don't consider it luck that I know some pretty darn successful people. I consider it to be a part of my professional life. As it should be.

However, even as I live the life I want to live, some goals have not yet been achieved. In the past, these have been relegated as "dreams." Simply put, a goal I could never, and would never, reach. They are only goals I could only dream about and never achieve.

That is no longer my attitude in life. I was thinking about the title of a friend's book one day: "Dream It, Do It: Inspiring Stories of Dreams Come True" I kept thinking on the "dream it, do it!" part of the title. I have had dreams, but all I did was keep them as dreams. I never tried to make those dreams come true. And now I'm going to DO IT! I am going to make my dreams a reality. Not sit around and just "dream" about what I want to do. I'm going to DO IT!! It won't be easy. It won't happen fast. And there WILL be low points tempting me to wonder if it's even worth it. But I know these are things I want to happen in my life. These are not just dreams, but goals.

And what type of goals are they?

I want to be a successful career novelist, getting one book after another published. I want to be in the same crowd as Tami Hoag, Mary Higgins Clark and Anne Rice.

How do I get there? I have to write, write, write! Every single day. Never give up in the face of rejection and KEEP AT IT no matter what people say! I'll have to take writing workshops, attend writing conferences and study, study like crazy. But most of all, I need to BELIEVE that I can do it! That I WILL land that book deal with a major publishing house! That I WILL continue to sell books to this publisher and have readers all over the world.

I want to get a college degree.

How do I do this? I have to scout out every single financial assistance program or possibility I can find. I have to be willing to APPLY MYSELF to studying and turning in my assignments. I need to be willing to stand up for myself to resolve my communication barriers. I am deaf and I am the ONLY PERSON who can fight for my rights to have an interpreter or a notetaker in the classroom. If I am able to take courses online in lieu of a notetaker, I need to grab that, too! Look into what communication options are available to me as a deaf student. I also need to ignore all the negative talk from other people. Things like "it's just a piece of paper" and "authors don't need a college degree." Maybe so, but having that degree is VERY important to me and a part of my life. I will be the first person in my family to get a college degree (I am the third of seven). But even more important, it's something I am doing for my children. My kids will see that their mother, who is deaf and who struggles financially, STILL managed to get a college degree despite obstacles! I hope it will inspire them, just as much as reaching that accomplishment will inspire me.

There are, of course, other goals that I have. Those two above are my most important goals to achieve. They are no longer my "dreams." They are my goals.

Other goals I have are: To meet Jonathan Knight (something I am working on right now), travel to Africa, vacation in Hawaii (or a honeymoon?? I would like to have a honeymoon), learn a martial art skill such as Tae Kwon Do, learn how to swordfight, learn how to swim (another goal I am working on -- summer IS coming up!), teach my child (and, later, children) ASL, run in a marathon and be in a movie. Those may not seem so "big" or "huge" to some people, but they are important to me. They are things I have only DREAMED about achieving someday in life. But I won't dream about them any more. I am going to wake up from those dreams and bring those goals into my real life. I am going to make my dreams come true!!!

A Jane-of-all-trades

Last night I had the strangest dream. Well, it wasn't as strange as it was...inspiring. In my dream, someone rattled off 5 different "jobs" I had going for me in my future. There was one thing I didn't particularly favor. I heard my voice say "no, not (blank). 'Cook.'" And the person amended what he said, adding, "Cook."

These five things are things I've always done in the past and things I want to do in real life. They are, essentially, my "vocational" goals. But how can they be "vocational goals" IF there are five things, and not one? I mean I was doing these things on a continuous basis, and not just every so often or when I felt like it. I mean, don't people choose ONE vocational goal and do that ONE THING for the rest of their lives? Like..I don't know. Act. Practice law. Protect and serve. Play basketball. Sell insurance.

This is an issue I have been grappling with lately. A real dilemma. I have been working with vocational rehab and we're at the point where we come up with an employment plan. My problem is, I can't just pick ONE THING. I can't! There's soo many different things I want to do. I want to be a professional chef, sure. But I also want to compete in races. Invent things. Act in a movie (yes, just ONE movie, thank you very much). And, of course, write books.

I will ALWAYS write books. That love right there is the ONE THING I know will never go away. I have an undying love for writing. A strong passion for words and stories. Writing is my heart and soul. It is the one thing I have been doing since I was a kid. I'm not surprised "author" was one of the things on that list. I was born a writer and I will die a writer! This is why I have gradually decided to pursue a degree in English. Before, my college goals were to major in journalism and minor in English. Now I am turning that around, because journalism is not a career I wish to pursue anymore. I've done it, and I loved every minute of it. It was fun. It was challenging. It was exciting! But it is no longer the path for me.

Yes, I am going to finish college. That is VERY IMPORTANT to me. I am going to finish college and get my degree!! I don't know HOW I'm going to do it, but all that matters is that I DO IT! It's part of my life goals and I am going to make every effort to achieve THAT particular goal. Not just for me, but for my kids, as well.

There was someone in that dream, someone who I hope to meet someday (and someone of a certain celebrity status). Meeting him is also one of my life goals, and I think about that a lot, as to WHY he was even in that dream to start with. Maybe the dream was all about my life goals and focusing on those goals. My vocational goals are just ONE part of my life goals. (They don't include him. LOL But maybe there's a reason for THAT, too.) Lately, I have been just struggling with this "rut" I've been in in life. I was once talking with my friend's mom and she asked me, "What are you doing with your life?" I couldn't answer her. I mean...what AM I doing? Right now, at this point in time, I'm...a writer. A homemaker. A mother. Unemployed, uneducated and unmotivated. Goalless. Dreamless. Useless.

At least, THAT is what I have been thinking. You know? I'm JUST a writer. Nobody special. What AM I contributing to the world?? Just WORDS!

And I want to do MORE than that. It's not that I don't value being a writer. I just want to be MORE than "just a writer." Yes, I want to be a runner. Yes, I want to be a cook. Yes, I want to be an inventor! But I don't know about the "actress" thing. Acting is NOT something I have really had much interest in. I mean, I DID try to get into acting when I was a teenager, and I WAS almost cast for a movie. But...it's not a BIG THING I have my heart set on.

Actually...I favor "teaching" over "acting" the most. I have always wanted to teach, and I even played teacher many times when I was growing up.

I don't know. It COULD happen. I know my degree will open doors for me, and it just may be what I end up teaching. My goals are not set in stone. I changed one of those things in my dream. I can change them in real life.

The important thing is that, at least, I know what those things are. And that I am okay with the fact that it's not just ONE.