I have always been a dreamer. Whether it be waking or asleep I have always been able to create the most vivid dreams in my mind. There have been many occasions since my childhood where I’ve had to try and remember if something had in fact happened or if I had dreamed it. I rarely dream the unimaginable. Considering my penchant for whimsical books and things completely out of the ordinary, it’s always been a bit strange (to me anyway) that my dreams rarely, if ever, have any sort of fantastical things happening. The most extraordinary being winning a prize or uncovering something special. When I was about thirteen, I had a dream that I was laying in bed with my husband (who remarkably resembled my now husband) in a large bed covered in cream colored everything and was smiling at him. I peered down a long hallway to see two small children laughing and running towards us, ready to pounce on us both. That dream (for reason’s unknown) has always stuck with me. When it happened it in real life it wasn’t the least bit shocking. It’s such an ordinary scenario. I tried to decide if I ever really dreamt it. I have kept journals for forever. I stumbled across one the other day and it had my dream written in it. I had my husband pegged down to the sandy brown hair, blue eyes and freckled covered back. It was really odd. The kids were a blur but Scott was clear as day. I have to wonder if I saw what was to come in the dream or if I loved the idea of it so much that I unconsciously sought it out. Who knows.

I woke up this morning from a dream where I had an adopted daughter. Chinese in descent, short black hair in a bob, and wearing a red dress covered in white polka dots. She was about one and half. We were moving into this HUGE house that we had inherited from my daughter’s parents because they had passed away. There was a HUGE addition to the house that was a studio. 40 foot ceilings, kid’s play area, tons of Nikon lenses and other equipment. I was looking around in awe of it. Like it was the first time I had seen it. Scott came in and took our daughter to eat (I have no idea what her name was) and I was left missing her snuggled up to me & contemplating this huge space. I remember feeling really sad looking around. That the people who made the place a home were no longer there to enjoy it. I could hear Ryan telling Scott he was afraid of ghosts and Adam telling him that his Dad would protect us all. Then I woke up.

My first coherent thought was that however much I wished to have a daughter, a studio, and all that equipment … I never want to feel sad like that again. My second thought was that it had such an eerie quality of truth attached to it, that I wondered if I’d never become friends with people who own large houses just to avoid it. Weird how the brain works so early in the morning

My next thought … don’t eat the cookies you baked yesterday. I’m on a diet. UGH. Then the day began.

I had a blog post all ready for today with photos from my weekend at American Girl & a fab yogurt place called Menchies but for some reason I couldn’t rid myself of that dream.