Hi Cath -
I had a dream about you last night. How weird! You were pregnant and SNOWBOARDING! Going super super fast down a slope that looked like something out of the Extreme Sports Olympic Edition and I had to keep all your little ones on the edge of the slope from wandering into the path of extreme snowboarders going 60 mph - you being one of them! I was having a heart attack watching you and keeping them safe.
What does that mean? Too funny.
Little 'ol me. Tearing up the slope.
What? Not me? You say I don't have long hair anymore? And you're pretty sure I can't pull a move like that? Grab some air like that?
You mean this looks more like me? Nawww....
Okay, yes. I haven't strapped on a snowboard since college, and even then, the poor boy trying to teach me figured out rather quickly I was a lost cause.
But back to the question from Sarah - about the dream.
First of all, I'm not pregnant. Definitely not. The docs said our boys were the last. No ifs, ands, or buts. And I'm good with that. Although some days I do get a hankering for a newborn. It simply wells up out of some deep recess in my soul.
We did, however, go tubing last week at one of the 2002 Salt Lake Olympic venues. Soldier Hollow.
I was the only one in our group who nearly took off her tush because she couldn't get on the tube fast enough. A tow rope pulls you and your tube (if you're smart you'll sit in your tube) to the top of the mountain, then you get a running start on this icy hill and jump onto your already moving tube for a crazy-fast ride to the bottom. I ran and jumped but missed my tube - because I hooked Eliza's tube to mine and was trying to push hers, while jumping into mine. Can you visualize the problem?
Well, I ended up in a sideways plank, connecting our two tubes with Eliza holding onto my arm for dear life. I was afraid I was going to skin the pants off my behind (or the flesh off my face) - not sure which would go first. Somehow I managed to clamor back into my tube while flying at an insane speed. Then, with some coaching from Doug, I perfected the tummy mount - a much safer way to descend the mountain. I guess you could call me an extreme tuber.
Or maybe it's the fact that even I have trouble protecting my kids. Today, I let them out into the backyard to "explore." Dig with sticks, find rocks, fill up buckets with leaves. While putting clothes into the dryer, I looked outside to realize no one was in the back yard anymore. I raced out front and found them in the middle of the street, blazing down the hill at tubing speeds into traffic that was rounding the corner. Of course, the boys were right there with them, pushing their lawnmowers.
I love Sam's face, tongue and all.
Oh, I know, it all looks benign from the photo. But after an hour of watching them span the length of six houses including a blind corner, having Eliza take off on her own, and standing in the middle of the street (we have no sidewalks - really - who planned that??) to slow down cars and usher children out of the way, I had a huge headache. They were stressing me out! I mean, a mother hen can only take so much.
Hey Gordo, where are you goooooing??
But Sarah, I'd trust you with my five any day.
She's cute but she is a kamikaze biker!
Or maybe I'm in need of some adventure in my life. It's tax season and both Doug and I have our noses to the grindstone, with nothing terribly exciting on the horizon. An adrenaline rush sounds rather appealing about now. Something beyond rescuing my kids from certain death in front of our house, pulling boys off the mantel, fishing Mater out of the toilet, or suffering cardiac arrest from finding my kids dropping rocks into the storm drain as a high-schooler races his jeep around the corner going 40.
You know, something like sky-diving (I jest not - it really is on my bucket list), or a trip to Thailand to sit on the beach in Phuket with my brother and his wife who live in Malaysia...
My darling sister-in-law, Shirlee, and her daughter Maya
Or just a jaunt to Nordstrom to buy my favorite lipliner that's been out of stock for months. I've got an itch for some adventure these days, something new - for that feeling of being pin-prickingly alive.
What say you? Soothersayers, interpreters? What does Sarah's dream mean?
I really am content with my life, but whatever the meaning (or lack thereof), it sure made for a good laugh this morning. Love you Sarah.