Nightmares
Having been somewhat sick, I’ve spent yesterday and today in bed (warning to OmegaGranny!). All of which is normally, in an odd way, kind of fun, especially because once you have a kid in the house, this kind of lolling about doesn’t happen very often.
But this afternoon I was plagued with nightmares. Or A Nightmare. Not quite sure which. And, being as I’m a generous person, and it was related to adopting from China, I’m going to share it with you.
It started off with blog-hopping, looking for new blogs. I found a blog by a lady that I knew, and on today’s page was a picture I knew–a little 3-year-old wearing a bright red macintosh and bright red galoshes and bright red rainhat lying on her stomach and holding her chubby cheeks in her hands, grinning into the camera, kicking her legs behind her.
(It’s a real photo, though I may have the colors wrong. It was one of the ones I yearned after while we were waiting for our referral.)
The blog entry…oh. My. God. It said, “Today it’s been three years since we had to take her back to China.”
Say what?!
I was horrified. Y’see, in my dream, I knew that little girl. I had played with her and loved on her shortly after OmegaDotter came home.
But here was this woman saying they had had to take her back to China. And, though it wasn’t said outright, my dreamstate said it was because the parents thought she had RAD. So I started archive diving, looking for the posts about why they had come to that decision, which I wasn’t able to find; the posts were all normal happy posts of life with a five-year-old and a three-year-old. The dream segued into me going back in time and holding that little girl on my lap–giggles and all–and having her throw a fit, then relax into my arms in that way that means “I’m totally trusting”. I was rubbing her back and looking at her mother in horror, because I knew she was just about to “return” this little girl to China because she was broken. All I wanted to do (remember, nightmare and dream logic and time-sense is totally incoherent) was to say to her, “I read your blog today! How can you do that?! Don’t return her to China–give her to us! Can’t you see it’s because you’re parenting her in a weird way that she’s responding to you like that?! Look at how she’s responding to me!” (Um. My dreamstate is very judgmental sometimes.)
Then the dream segued into me being at MortimersMom’s house, or Mrs. Figby’s house (not sure which), and trying to use their phone so that I could get home so I could write a horrified blog entry about all of this. And then, when I finally got to my computer (which was at my Aunt F.’s house), it was stuck on that blog entry, and I couldn’t get LiveWriter to work so I could blog about it, no matter how hard I pounded on the keyboard or hit escape or tried to kill the blog entries by hitting Ctl-Alt-Del.
Which is why, when all is said and done, I am blogging about it. I have no idea what brought it up, but I’m still shaken by it.
(There was a lot more, including a horrid little vignette where Hippy Dippy Little Enclave in the Woods was taken over by developers who were ripping out the houses and putting in ticky-tacky little suburban delios all over the place…)
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