Posts Tagged ‘dreams’

Post Wreckage Wisdom

March 21, 2013

Before this past Saturday, the previous car accident I participated in was in 1999 in Anaheim, California.  Thankfully I have been fender bender free for 14 joyous years. (However, in my current state of narcotic use, I could easily and most probably be missing large periods of my life in my memory banks.)  When one meanders through life without hitting other vehicles, you tend to forget many important facts regarding collisions.  This morning, at 4:06 a.m., I am here to inform all those who need informing on said subject.

1.  Accidents happen when you least expect it and when it is not convenient in your life.  In my case, I was casually  heading to Bed Bath and Beyond to purchase a much needed shower curtain liner for the main bath due to visitors who were scheduled to arrive at my home in exactly four hours.  My daughter and two friends were descending upon our house for Spring Break from college in Tulsa, Oklahoma, a mere 14 hour drive to Phoenix, Arizona.  Two days after their arrival, three Canadian relatives were also visiting for a week.  Hence, the new shower curtain liner was MANDATORY.

2.  Teenage drivers are a danger on the road.  Out of a neighborhood shopping center driveway (right next to Charming Charlie’s purse/accessory mother ship store) a small white vehicle came flying directly into my lane from the right without any warning time, hindering me from doing all those things you know you should do when you figure out you’re are going to hit another car, i.e. brake, scream “Sweet mother of God!”, brace yourself so as to increase muscle injuries, curse the driver’s day of birth, yell at your kids “Hang on, Mommy’s going to hit someone!” or any other such nonsense. I glanced at the car and slammed into it.  That is all.  I never saw the driver’s face as she was looking to her right the entire time she was entering the four lane road, planning on crossing two lanes of traffic.  The kind police man asked me how long I had between my visual awareness of the other car and impact.  “One second.”  I have since wondered about her actions.  Did she just find the queen mother purse to match her favorite hot pink and cheetah print shoes, and couldn’t wait to get home and unite the two, creating the perfect ensemble?  Did she just eat at the Mellow Mushroom and was in a pasta induced coma with garlic permeating from her pores?  We will never know, dear reader.

3.  When the kind police man finished my inquisition and then glanced in the back seat of the van to witness a tear-stained little Latina child, he should have used his kind policeman voice and asked a politically correct question like, “Who is this little sweetheart?” or “I see we have a princess in the back seat.” or “Honey, are you ok?”  But NO.  He got the wrath of the blubbering adoptive mother when he blurted out, “Who is THAT?” like I picked up an illegal alien down by the border and was transporting her color-coordinated, well manicured dimpled self like a criminal. I will admit I answered a bit tersely, “SHE’S MY DAUGHTER!!!!”  My tone set him in his place and his kind police man voice surfaced as he praised her for being in her booster seat and wearing her seatbelt.  I am a protective mama first, and an injured car passenger second. Don’t ever forget that!

4.  Auto injuries are curious beasts.  Due to the impact of the airbag underneath the steering column of our van, my shins took a real beating.  I did not know there was an airbag under there, nor was I aware that it was hinged from the bottom and the molded plastic cover was capable of shaving your legs so thoroughly upon explosion, you might never need to shave them ever again due to the absence of several layers of skin and hair follicles.  Thank God I was wearing jeans.  As was predicted by my ER doctor friend, other injuries will surface when the most intense injuries subside.  After four days of lying on the couch with my legs elevated and iced every hour around the clock, I was able to stand without tears accumulating in my eyes.  Then I realized my right shoulder was not working as well as it had been performing before the white car jumped in my path.  Yesterday x-rays were had and after two days of icing my shoulder every hour around the clock, we will hopefully have some answers tomorrow as to my gimpy limb.  When that is concluded, I do not know what will make me cry next…. the seatbelt bruise line across my entire torso?  Or some other area still in shock waiting to surface.  I will surely keep you posted, even though I am aware of “women’s tea rules of courtesy” of not speaking of sickness or operations.  This ain’t a tea…. it is my blog, and where else can I complain with my sense of humor intact for the enjoyment of others?

5.  God takes care of His children.  When God found our new-to-us van on November 30, 2012, He was testing my thankfulness at receiving such a good and perfect gift from Him, despite it being red.  Red is my least favorite color.  But I WAS thankful for the van… the low miles, the reasonable price, the stow-n-go compartments to haul more junk, the awesome air-conditioning, the radio controls on the back of the steering wheel, etc.  And I was content knowing that I couldn’t see that it was red while I was riding in the van. I imagined that it was a purty royal blue color.  So I am pretty sure I passed the red van test and now get another new-to-us van that is not red.  I will keep you posted.

Currently my pain meds have once again done their duty and I am ready to drift back to a psycho-dream filled sleep.  Good night for now.

DRE-E-E-E-EAM, dream dream dre-eam

January 23, 2013

When you grow up, you assume your life is the normal life of all the other kids in the world.  When you get older, you realize just how non-normal your growing up actually was, well, compared to all the other non-normal lives you learn about as time goes on.  Confused yet?

All that to say, I grew up thinking everyone dreams in color.  I do.  Of course I’m not the weird one, am I?  Thanks to the internet, I have discovered that more than 80% of people dream in color.  Not so weird after all, thankyouverymuch.  Yet another fact caused me to pause and consider my abnormalness once again…. 95-99% of people forget their dreams. What?  Almost every night I have vivid dreams and can tell the tales of them the next day.  My children take great pleasure in asking me what I dreamt last night and then rolling on the floor holding their sides due to laughter induced dream tales.  Some dreams have stuck with me for years… for 24 years, in one case… like it was yesterday.  Some are so real that I write them down to ponder later.

While we were away at Christmas I had this great dream (that my children loved) about my husband wanting to redo the greenhouse (that we don’t have) on the back of the house (that we don’t live in).  He was all inspired and wanted to show me his plans, but he insisted the best view was from the neighbor’s back driveway.  The only glitch was that he was naked and I wasn’t walking outside with him.  I’m the modest one in the family, for goodness sakes alive, even in my dreams.  So he talked me into driving over to the neighbor’s back driveway in our station wagon with tasteful “wood” paneling on the sides.  He drove me over there and proceeded to do a 13 point turn in the little driveway until the car was facing our greenhouse (sideways on the driveway.)  But the inevitable happened and he backed up too far and we went down into the ditch and got stuck.  I told him I would climb out the window and go call AAA but he yelled, “You cannot call Triple A, I’m naked!”  And that was the end.  I did not find deep meaning in that dream.  I pray we never own that house or car!  But it WAS funny!

Sixteen years ago, after watching Father of the Bride 2, my husband decided we should move from Spruce Grove, Alberta to Phoenix, Arizona to be near my parents.  I whole heartily agreed.  We put the house on the market and prayed for a quick sale, it was winter after all. Then I had a dream about a lady coming to buy our house. I awoke quite relieved and explained in detail what she looked like to my husband. For ten long months, our house sat on the market and many people came to see it.  Every time I opened the front door, if it wasn’t the lady in my dream, I was disappointed.  Phoenix was calling my name, after all.  Finally one day she came.  I recognized her.  And she did buy our house.  Truly, I think God gave me the picture of her as a sign of hope that there was someone coming.  It gave me a measure of assurance.

Do you remember your dreams?

The Bean Dream Day

January 8, 2010

For the first time in our almost 23 years of marriage, my husband awoke this morning at 7:30 am and said, “I had a dream last night.”  This may seem usual to you, but not to me.  He never dreams!  Ever!  Or if he does, he cannot remember them at all.  I, on the other hand, have vivid dreams in shining colors almost every night and can retell most of them for days.  See, opposites do attract.

To make a really long story very short, we have talked about a new book idea that I have schemed about for almost six months.  We jotted down ideas at Chipotle one night last Fall…. which brought both of us to tears.  It’s obviously a topic near and dear to our hearts.  Of course it’s top secret, and I can’t share quite yet, so you don’t steal the brilliant idea.  I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.  (Name that movie.) 

Anyway, Rick’s dream was about this awesome marketing idea for the book that I haven’t written yet.  It is now affectionately called the Bean Dream, and goes down in history as the best idea God has ever given him in his sleep.  Well, that he can remember.   I’m sure part of Rick’s button bursting moment was the fact that in the Bible it says YOUNG men will dream dreams and old men will see visions.  This was definitely a dream… not a vision.  (hahahahaha)

Sleepily I listened and then pondered and then finally responded, “That is a good idea!”  Rick emphatically stated, “That is a GREAT idea!”  To which I agreed…. and then couldn’t go back to sleep.  So, the plan unfolded before my fingertips on the laptop in bed as the sun peaked its sleepy head over the mountaintop and spread its golden beams into our room. 

OOOHHHhhhhhh, this is good! 

Tonight I showed Larisa what we are planning and she read the whole schpeal and replied, “This is really good.  Where did you get this from?”  “FROM GOD!” and once again, my own child was totally impressed with her parents.  It was a happy mommy moment.  This is such a rare occasion, that I just had to blog it.  If I remember right, the last time she was impressed by one of her parents was in 1998 when I set up a tent by myself. 

An-ti-ci-pa-a-tion is making you wait.  Sorry.

?# 18 from My Sister’s Jar – The Next Decade

August 21, 2008

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

Egads.  I’ll be 52.  That’s just after old age sets in.  Wow.  Don’t worry, that won’t be me… I can’t play the accordion.  :o)  Whenever I look to the future I figure out how old my kids will be…. 25, 22, 20 and Zaza in her upper teens.  Wow again.  Larisa could be married and Aus and Keeve in college or on NHL teams, as they’ll tell you.  Well, thanks to Zaza I’ll still be homeschooling.  (For those new to MSJ, Zaza is the nickname for our daughter we are adopting from Colombia… any day now.) 

I hope to have AT LEAST two more books published by then, one on marriage and one on the joy of weighing yourself daily.  I’ve got them inside of me…. I simply need the time to get them out.  I also see myself speaking to more women as my time will be somewhat more flexible with most of the kids out of the house.  That’s so sad.  Gone.  I think I need to go find them and hug their necks right now.

I hope that Rick’s schedule will be far more loose by the year 2018 and we can do homeschool high school with Zaza traveling the world.  (Oh, the joys of the baby of the house, eh, Christy?!)  I also secretly hope to either have a summer home where it isn’t 120 degrees or to be completely moved to somewhere else with four seasons and a winter home here in Phoenix.  So I guess I’m trying to say that I DON’T see myself as full time resident in Phoenix in 10 years.

This was short and sweet. 

www.LindaCrosby.com  BAGS -> www.bagsforzaza.blogspot.com

Pre-Book Signing Nightmare

May 3, 2008

I’m normally a level headed woman who deals with new situations and opportunities with glee.  I thought I was handling the pressure of my first book signing (for Laughter in the Midst of Mothering…….  www.LindaCrosby.com)  but I realized when I awoke from my nightmare that I must have been suppressing inner turmoil about the event.  The dream was entertaining, however.

I dreampt that the alarm was not set and I overslept.  The air got sucked out of my lungs as I realized my dilemma.  The book signing started at 11:00 a.m. and in my dream I awoke at 12:15 confused and flustered.  IT WAS SO REAL!  I couldn’t figure out if it was 3:00 or 12:15…. you know, because the clock hands could be reversed….funny how your mind plays trick on you even in your sleep.  Then my father called me from his cell phone at the book store to ask where I was and to tell me that the highway north of us was flooded and I would need to go the long way around.  I was sobbing and mumbling. 

I went to find my husband, whose fault it was for not setting the alarm, and he was watching a movie in a theater room that we don’t have.  I told him over and over that we were late and he was to blame.  His eyes were glued to the big screen.  He didn’t seem too interested in my plight.  So I went over and beat on him with the back of my wrists…. you know…. like an orangutan.  (Dreams are great, aren’t they??)  Next, I went up stairs, did my hair and threw on my clothes…. crying all the while.  Back downstairs I went again to tell Rick he had to drive so I could apply my make-up in the van.  He had moved to the workout room that we don’t have and was busy clanging weights…. not listening to me.  Another primate beating occurred. 

Then I woke up.  It was over.  I hadn’t acted like a monkey.  The alarm was set.  My husband was asleep next to me… and he didn’t buy a theater room or gym without asking me first…. and there was time to make it to the book signing.  Whew.

If someone out there has another dream interpretation other than pre-book signing jitters, I’d love to hear it.

Sweet Dreams.