On nightmares and newspapers

If you are in Chicago, take a little peek in today's Sun-Times. If you are elsewhere (and why would you want to be on a sunny, breezy day like today?), take a little peek at the paper online.

Lil E and I are featured in an article on the distress dreams that commonly disrupt the little bits of sleep new moms get. I was surprised to learn that many mothers scramble about in the night, searching for their babies in the bed, just as I did for nearly two years. The nightmare sensation -- it even has a term, BiB for (you've got it) Baby in Bed (clever, eh?) -- is thought to borrow stress from a parent's waking life for the dream state.

Because my grandmother had these dreams for 25 years, I assumed they were hereditary, like the propensity toward small animal and people in the room dreams that my dad, cousins, Lil E and I all share with her. I don't think I've ever heard another parent talk about this unconscious anxiety and I think my patient husband attributed my search and rescue missions in the bedcovers to be not unlike the walking and talking I do in my sleep (seriously, my bedtime activity is neither as sexy nor as memorable as I'd imagined for my goddess-aspiring self).

To summarize: We all thought mama's lost baby, surprise bridal shower, squirrel and serving wine to invisible customers in our restaurant closet dreams were to be blamed on some genetic glitch, not stress and worry (nooooo).

Alas, I am not alone. In fact, I now stand with the other women in the study and a few other mamas interviewed by the Sun-Times reporter. Lucky for me, the nice photographer lady chose not to pose me pulling out my hair or tucking Lil E under piles of comforters at the foot of my bed. Instead, she smiled at his insistence to hold up his "constrrrruction tools" and wear his favorite firefighter gear. She was quite kind and I am very happy to see the moments she captured in print and online.

A good friend also told me that Eric & Kathy on WTMX The Mix 101.9 also discussed the article and quoted me (hooray!, all the single suburban mall grrrls and stockbrokers know about me now!). I haven't listened to the podcast yet myself but you can tune it into your iPod or similar to hear for yourself.

And you, lovely de-stressed and Zenned out parents ye, did you have distress dreams when you were new to the game? What did you dream? When did they fade?

Cross-posted at Chicago Moms Blog.
[photo credit: Jean Lachat/Chicago Sun-Times]

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Post 9/11 and preschool

I was going to post at September 11th today, about the strange mix of fear and calm as I sat in my office downtown. I was going to write about being blocks from the Sears Tower, about the constantly ringing phones that spread from office to office, cubicle to cubicle, as mothers and husbands and boyfriends and friends in other nearby buildings called with concern. Where were we? Would Chicago be next? When would we evacuate? Is it OK to exit the buildings, to board the els and subways, to drive on the expressways through the city?

I was going to write about how I sat on the couch for ten hours with my mother, unable to get stir, my eyes fixed on the chaos and horror and overwhelming sadness of a city and a nation crumbling. I was going to write about attending a memorial service at my church a few days later, of feeling like a hand rested on my shoulder during one hymn, of having a strong sense that my minister grandfather had died only a month earlier with some purpose, of the peace that washed over me when I envisioned him greeting the departed as their spirits ascended into the unknown.

I was going to write about all that but my morning was swept up in making a sun butter and jam sandwich lunch, filling up sippy cups, packing extra sets of clothes, bathing the boy who woke up sweaty in his jammies and could only be scrubbed and soothed in a morning bubble bath. A contemplative morning gave way to the flurry of getting my boy and myself ready for the first day back to co-op and the return of a more regular schedule.

There is an assertive breeze blowing through this sunny day, telling me that summer is quickly with the yellowing ginkgo leaves in front of our apartment building.  It is bright and clear and much like that day six years ago (six years!). But today, my boy is nearly three and heading off to a new classroom in his co-op, where he will walk up two flights of stairs and be able to reach his own bin full of his lunchbox and backpack and babydoll Tiger and will take potty breaks instead of toting diapers for changing.

Today, he stands in front of the door, with some hesitation but big smiles, talking about Samantha and Big Josh and the rest of his friends waiting to play.

As I snapped first day photos of this child with combed hair and wrinkled pants and the sweetest gap between his teeth, my heart had a momentary ache to think of the parents and children who lost each other that day when everything stopped. That slight pause was interrupted by a "MOMMY! I will do fwee!" as Lil E carefully unfolded and refolded his fingers into a prideful three.

And I thought that as hard as life is, it does go on. Smiles spread across small faces and there is just the slightest and most significant indication of hope and happiness. There is school and stickers and sippy cups and small children who grow up to make changes, bring comfort, rebuild, play. That is what I'm writing -- and thinking and thankful -- about today.

Cross-posted at Chicago Moms Blog.

[photo credit: Jessica Ashley]

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Paging Mr. Obama

The closer we get to the election, the more I read, the more I see, the more I (not so) casually bring up the candidates at playgroup or family barbeques, the less sure I am of who will get my vote.

I've already voted for Barack and I'd be very happy to do it again. He's smart, progressive, assertive and has done some wonderful works on behalf of my state. I've also been a long-time fan of Hillary's and have even longer dreamed of casting my vote for a strong, intellectual, independent female President.

And then there's Elizabeth, wooing me with her clarity and vision, politics aligned right there with my feminism and her words speaking to my soul. Of course, she's not running for office; her husband is. But I am so on her side that I've wondered if having her within a few feet of the Oval Office would be enough to make the changes that need to be made in this country.

One of the reasons, I'm shaking my (errrm) political pom pons for  Elizabeth Edwards is that I've heard her, seen her, focused on her, all in person, far from print and screen. I think it is time that I get to know the other candidates hovering around my ballot a bit better, too. That's why I'm joining the Chicago Moms Blog in respectfully requesting a date with Senator Obama.

Perhaps our future will read much differently than I expect, but for now, this election feels more than important. It feels critical and I want to be very sure that my choice is solid, settled and right for me.

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