On Dreams

It's been a long time since Turbo shared his dreams with me. I'd almost started to wonder if he was dreaming at all. I have yet to google when kids start to dream, but I don't need to. I have proof from the source. (Plus, do you ever feel Internet fatigue... I get tired of being lazy and searching for my answers when I might have them already rattling around my own head.)

Out of curiosity, I read through a couple of my older posts about Turbo and his dreams (Proof of Dreaming, and Part Two), I noticed a pattern that when Turbo sleeps in a little longer than his usual 6 something'o'clock, this is the magical time when dreams take shape. It makes sense. From what I remember of college psychology classes, dreaming happens most as we're in the light sleep just before waking. (Again, not googling to confirm - oh, what freedom to stop caring about accuracy for a moment.)

This morning my husband and I woke to the comforting sounds of rain pelting down on our roof. I smiled when I realized my kids were still sleeping (in their own beds) and I could breathe in the rain-soaked air from our open window on this rare quiet morning. I have always loved the sound of rain and welcome its presence in my life more than I usually admit to my affected-by-the-lack-of-sun friends. Seasonal Affective Disorder is no joke, but I don't seem to have it and I love, love, love the cleansing power of rain. I'm pretty sure I live in the right area of our great country.

When I finally ventured into Turbo's room to wake him for school and raisin bran (not in that order), he reached out for my arm, eyes still mostly closed, and pulled me into his bed for a hug. So sweet is he who wakes gently and slowly. Here is our conversation:

Turbo, unprompted, "I got on a school bus."

Me: "You did?"

Turbo: "Yeah. I sat in the drive-- where the driver..."

Me: "You sat in the driver's seat?"

Turbo: "Yeah."

Of course you did, my little director. You love to be in charge.

Me: "Who else was on the bus with you?"

Turbo: "Nobody. The kids weren't there." He paused and reconsidered (I assume he might have actually still been in the dream and was playing with the story a bit). "My kids were on the bus too. They sat in back... in front..."

Pause (oh, how I  hope he was molding the story with his wise and powerful mind).

Turbo: "We went on a trip."

Me: "Where did you go?"

Turbo: "I can't ma-member."

And then it was over and he was awake and pulling me out of his bed to go eat some of that raisin bran.

Here's to you, my man in charge. May you always steer with precision.