What Dreams May (be)Come

Jon made a terrible mistake this morning. We can blame it on a lack of sleep. Around 2 am, I awoke to nurse Jubilee and realized that Zephyr's diaper had leaked. I directed comatose Jon to get a fresh diaper, clean pajamas, and a towel to cover the wet spot. It seemed we were going to get away with it, that Zephyr would continue sleeping without registering the disturbance. I imagined him waking in the morning and pondering the costume change. Then (sigh) shortly afterwards, Zephyr stood up to look out the window to see if it was getting light out- Toddler Rules in our house dictate that he can't nurse until the sun is up. I explained to him that he should go back to sleep; that it was going to be a long, long time until he could nurse. One thing led to another; Jon took him to the kitchen for a snack, brought him back, Zephyr staked out in front of the window again, then said he wanted more of the same snack...I'm not sure how long it all lasted (we block the blue face of our clock at night because it distracts little mothgirl Jubilee), but it felt like hours.

Anyway, the two of them slept in a little bit, and when they woke up, Jon began, "I just had the craziest dream about Hannah, the farmer's market bread girl? She came to visit us but she was really really tired, so she went to bed, but then then she was in the back of some type of truck we were hauling somewhere, but my dad was driving and I was trying to explain to him that he needed to be careful since Hannah was trying to sleep..."

While Jon blithely rambles, I plant an interested look on my face and nod at the right times, but my inner dialogue is something like: hasn't he ever noticed that when I want to tell him about a dream I wait until Zephyr's deeply distracted by something and/or out of earshot? Is Zephyr going to try to ask Hannah about this at the market on Saturday? Does Jon really think Zephyr can distinguish between hearing about a dream and hearing about something that really happened? Why won't he just stop?!?!

The questioning began immediately.
Z: What was Hannah the bread girl doing, Dada?
J: Nothing, honey, Dada was just making that up.
Z: But where was she, Dada?
J: Probably at home, sleeping in her bed, tired out from a weekend of selling bread.
Z: Mommy, why was she sleeping at our house?
N: No, honey, that was just a dream Dada had. It didn't really happen. Dada was pretending, like when you pretend you're a cheetah.
Z: Was she checking on my while I was sleeping because I was coughing, Mommy?
N: No, honey, none of that really happened.
Z: But, Mommy, why was Hannah sleeping?
N: (hissed to J) You started this!

More questions about Hannah's mysterious nap as I pushed Zephyr to the park in his stroller. The questions returned as we walked home. I came into the kitchen with a laundry basket full of diapers after dinner to hear Zephyr interrogating his father, "But why? Why was Hannah so sleepy that she fell asleep when she came to see us?"

Certainly, Jon won't make the same mistake again. And quite frankly, I'm relieved that I listened when my intuition told me to err on the side of caution when it came to dream exploration, or Zephyr might be asking questions about why I left Jubilee on an airplane or why he was sitting in the school cafeteria, in a long row of slightly older children, unable to figure out how to open his lunch. Yes, dream discussion, for the time, must be done in secret. Much like when I spy Zephyr deeply involved in a book, tap Jon on the shoulder, motioning that I'd like him to disappear into the bedroom with me, so we can steal a few moments to (wink wink)...fold clean sheets. It's quicker, easier, and neater without a toddler's insistent helpfulness. And sheets have an important job around here. You never know what the night might hold. Just ask Hannah.