My first night at home, I had bizarre dreams. I'll also share some other thoughts before trying to get caught up on some non-baby-related things. For some reason, the whole world doesn't pause just because I do.
In the first dream, my brother was leaving his wife and two small kids. When my sister and I tried to find out why, he showed us a carefully-prepared presentation, complete with various table displays, all to demonstrate that he was a supreme being. One of his points of proof was that his urine smelled like sage.
In another dream, a fellow
Otakon staffer, The News Producer, was a member of a cosplayer group that liked to pretend to be superheroes. They were giving an exclusive interview to some reporters, during which they planned to claim they'd had dinner with Batman. In order to impress the reporters, I helped them set up a demonstration where a fake baddie came in and tried to kidnap me. In the ensuing battle, The News Producer and his cosplay buddies were throwing sharp little knives, some of which hit me in the head.
Afterward, recounting the highlights of the battle, The News Producer mused that at times, "I think I really was a superhero." I just grumbled as I picked small knives out of my hair.
A third dream saw me with a friend who had a computer with a face. She was nearly impossible to read, though, because she refused to keep her status updates current.
In a final dream that first night, I was the wife of a guy who played Santa Claus for a living. His name was Lee, and he was a young guy with dark hair, but he took it so seriously that he wore his Santa suit 24/7 in the months leading up to Christmas. He was going out on our unfenced lawn to put up the Christmas decorations, and I noticed that not only were there a puppy and a kitten out there with him, but our toddler (a small, dark-haired girl) was just about to open the unlocked screen door to follow him outside. Lee/Santa puttered around with some lights, seemingly unaware of the danger of these small, young beings wandering near a busy road.
I was furious, and I ran outside yelling at him for being so careless. He seemed surprised and told me that the puppy and kitten were only stuffed animals. Sure enough, even though they'd been frolicking like live beings when I'd seen them from inside, I could now see they were plushies. Still, I was angry about the unlocked screen door, and I yelled at him about how irresponsible he was until all the neighbors passing on the street turned to stare. Lee/Santa just sighed as he pounded a sign into the ground that read "Santa is In."
I've had other strange and disturbing dreams since then, but none quite so colorful as that first night.
Now, some randomosity:
- I never realized I could do so many things one-handed.
- The nickname Kung Fu Panda suits our little guy especially well, since pandas have to hold their wee ones in their paws for the first several months of life. While he now sleeps happily in his crib at night, he prefers to cuddle during the day. I'm hoping to find a safe baby harness that he'll like better than the Baby Bjorn we got (fortunately, only $15 used), since his arms and legs have to stick out of that. Our Kung Fu Panda prefers to be swaddled.
- This morning, while feeding Kung Fu Panda, my dog sat at my feet and my cat crept near enough for me to pet him with my free hand (we keep hand sanitizer close at hand for just such occasions). The pets seem to be accepting Kung Fu Panda as one of their own.
- Week number one was about learning to care for our Kung Fu Panda. Week number two will be about figuring out how to cope when my husband, The Gryphon, goes back to work. I telecommute, transcribing cable news shows, so I have some flexibility during the day. At night, however, I have strict deadlines, so I need to figure out how to keep Kung Fu Panda happy and cared for until The Gryphon returns home (our schedules, unfortunately, overlap rather than meet up neatly).
- Then I've got to figure out how to feed him whilst meeting my deadlines, because we don't intend to start trying to incorporate bottles (using pumped breast milk) until week four, on the advice of our breast feeding class. I'm going to experiment with feeding Kung Fu Panda while typing. I'm assured by a friend this can be accomplished with a creative use of pillows. We shall find out. I've already learned that the sound of typing does not disturb his sleep (this post being proof, as he's currently cuddled against my chest).
- Our dog, Una, is obeying the boundaries we have set for her, but she's sending me telepathic messages: "When can I lick the baby? When can I lick the baby? WhencanIlickthebaby?" It's become an in-joke between The Gryphon and me. One of us will say, "Una says she can soothe him by licking his face." Or "Una has a question for you: 'When can I lick the baby?'" She's going to have to be very patient, though, because we both agree we want him to be capable of turning his face away first! We also don't want to explain to a doctor why he has a dog-tongue-shaped groove on the back of his head, where the skull is still soft. Perhaps, if Una is patient and good, some supervised baby foot licking may be permitted.
Moral:
Parents need to make 90% of the accommodations for new babies, not the other way around!