deadlightsgirl | dream lessons

I don't usually blog about my dreams, but this one stayed with me enough, and I want to reassert to myself what my brain was trying to tell me. It's pretty straightforward, actually.

I need to preface this with what went on before bedtime. Gracie spent the day with her daddy (here), and I went out for a bit. I came home, we drove him to the train, no problem. She asked to go to Dairy Queen, no problem. She was good in the grocery store after. We came home and watched the SpongeBob marathon all snuggled up, and when she asked for a pancake, I didn't even care that she wouldn't taste it because it was made with eggnog and was SO good with the cinnamon syrup. When she wanted to look at something on my computer, I let her, and she shared it nicely so I could check my email. I confess that when she got involved playing with her toys, I got involved online, but whatever. The point is, there weren't any Daddy Transition Issues.

She took her bath. I don't make her go crazy with soap all the time, it's mostly just a routine thing. I do try to get her to wash herself, just give herself a quick rubdown with her hands in the water. She does this sometimes. Last night was not one of those nights. Just wouldn't do it. I asked, I bribed, I told her I would narc on her to Santa, all of it. She just got more defiant and splashy, adding puddles to the problem. I told her she was going to be punished - specifically, no TV, she would stay in her room until bedtime, and with the door open so I could keep an eye on her. This did NOT make her happy, and what followed was an hour of theatrical yelling at which I was unmoved, and used the time to put away laundry. The convenient bit was when she decided to take her tantrum into the closet in her room, which gave me space to make her bed. When I was done, I sat on the floor in my room and waited. She eventually came out quietly, and I asked if she was ready to talk. She sat in my lap. First it seemed like once she got the idea physically that I wasn't mad at her, she was ready to blow the whole thing off and headed out to the living room, saying she would watch a movie. I said nuh-uh, you are still punished, and we have to talk about it. She came back.

I told her that even though she has lots of other people in her family who love her (Daddy, Grammy, etc), that she and Mama are the only ones who live in the Gracie-And-Mama House together (plus the cat), and we have to take care of each other and make each other happy. Frinstance, she asked for ice cream, I got it for her. I told her for us to be Team Gracie And Mama, this has to work both ways. Just like I try to give her what she wants when she asks because I want her to be happy, I need her to do the same for me. I also stressed that punishing her isn't fun for anyone, and makes me as sad as it makes her. She didn't get the TV back that night, but by now it was bedtime and she asked for a story which she got, and we snuggled together and were made up before lights out. She promised that next bath time would be different, but we'll see.

I hate fighting with her, especially at bedtime. It weighs on me. I stayed up way later than I should, had trouble falling asleep, and generally lay there and resented specific bits of the world for making me have to deal with this on my own. Eventually I fell asleep. I don't remember my dreams until after 5 AM, when Gracie called out to me and came into my bed. She climbed over me onto her side and went right back to sleep. When I slept again, I dreamed Gracie and I were on a cruise. We have plans to fly to Florida over February break this year, just the two of us, and I am a bit nervous about that, so a dream like this was no surprise. In the dream, she was wonderful. We had a big first-class cabin on the cruise ship, we played together, and everything was fine. I remember placing a call to my mother to have her come pick us up at the other end, but then suddenly the ship we were on was the Titanic, and it was going to sink soon.

The funny thing was, in my dream, I didn't panic. I knew what was going to happen, and I also knew about the women-and-children-first thing, so I knew we would have first dibs on a lifeboat. So I dressed Gracie warmly, held her close, and told her that we had to transfer ships, the way one would transfer subway trains (even though Gracie has never been on the subway. Apparently some woman who was really on the Titanic had this experience - she was a first class-passenger who didn't speak a lot of English, so she supposedly just thought the transfer into lifeboats was standard procedure and slept through the whole thing. Not sure if I believe it, but it worked to tell the child in the dream). Gracie was well-behaved and listened, if a bit freaked, especially when the lifeboat spent some time rolling back and forth inside the mouth of a giant sperm whale like in Pinocchio. I covered her eyes with my hand, kept her calm, and eventually we got to New York and were reunited with one or two old loves from my past, whom I knew I couldn't be with, but both Gracie and I were happy to see anyway (she hugged them too).

I have always believed that dreams are your brain's way of telling you what you already know, and this one was clearly my brain spelling out an Ode Of Reassurance to me, for which I thank it. Even with all the doubt and fear and difficulty, I can do this. And I can do this on my own, taking help where it is offered, but knowing that no matter how huge (or titanic) the issue is, I can keep my cool and be her mother and bring her up on my own, and she can be amazing and wonderful and well-behaved and we can be there for each other and encourage each other's awesome.

Thanks, Brain. Sometimes you need things like this spelled out.