Yesterday we got our new bunny. For now it’s bunny no-name, as its name keeps switching. We thought we had decided on Midnight, but discovered a friend name their cat that. So we each submitted a name and voted (no one was allowed to vote for their own.) The submitted names were: Has (after Hasenpfeffer), Voldemort, Edward, Napoleon, Beardie, Mr. Snuffles, and Cuddles. Has won the vote, but Gabby put her foot down in hate. So someone suggested the name Killer, after the cute, lovable bunny from Monty Python’s The Holy Grail (a movie most of us can say from memory, aside from the Sir Galahad scene, which we skip.) Alisa started crying saying she wanted it to be Edward (From Disney’s Enchanted. Originally she wanted it to be Giselle, the heroine, but our bunny is a boy.) We said its name could be Edward and its nickname could be killer just like she is Alisabeth but we call her Alisa, Lisa, and Lily. But that started off an argument so we are back to no name! What we do know is that it is a very soft, shy, brown and white Rex bunny!
So I am feeling a bit unsettled on this Holy day of rest. I’ve always put a lot of stock into dreams (more then some, not as much as others though.) For example, my pregnancy with Alisa had a bit of trouble in the middle, with possible amniotic bands and low amniotic fluid. I was sent to the cities for a level II ultrasound, and the night before I dreamed that I was having the ultrasound and it was like a front-loading washer, and I could see a little girl in there, who had bright blue eyes and dark brown hair. She smiled and waved at me. The next day I woke up and laughed, because in my family only the blonds got the blue eyes. Dark haired Zach got my brown eyes! Well, I not only found out I was having a girl, but that there were not bands or low fluid. I had another dream shortly after my niece Brianna died that she visited me and told me she was okay, happy, and it was okay for me to be happy too. Because of these thing, sometimes I take too much stock in what my kids say. For example, if Mark and I go on a date, one of the kids might cry and say “No, don’t go” and I immediately wonder if something bad is going to happen. Ethan went to a birthday party and Dylan screamed to not let him go and I worried until he was home safe. Dylan told Alisa the other day “Your going to die!” and I freaked out and told him not to say stuff like that. So this morning, I was fixing breakfast for the children before church and Alisa came out humming. She sat at the table and starting eating and said “Mom, I had a really good dream!” and I told her that was great and asked what it was about. She said “I had a dream that I went to live with Heavenly Father again.” And she went on to start singing a song about children, and prayer, and being close to God. I sat there in stunned silence, on the verge of tears, and said “What do you mean? How did you get there?” and she said “The Holy Ghost brought me” and continued to sing. Yuck. OK, I don’t complain to much that I’m not rich, or gorgeous and with a tiny little waist, that I don’t have an untestable IQ (and I have a friend who has been determined to have such!) that I only play the piano enough to get by, that I speak enough French to probably survive France, but would likely get laughed at behind my back all because I figure that if I don’t complain about those things, the least God can do in his “lack” of my blessings in those categories is to give me children who are happy, healthy, and live long, blessed lives. I remind him of this “bargain” in my prayers at night. I have issues with death. Not of my own, but of loved ones. In my mind, it’s a deal breaker. If Mark or one of my children were to die, I’m not sure my Faith could sustain the blow. Sad, I know! People everyday live though tragedy. Someone today is mourning the loss of their 2-year old in the Hugo Tornado. And they don’t lose their faith. When I got to church I talked to Mark in tears and he reminded me of all the dreams that don’t come true. I asked him “What if it IS?” and he looked at me and said “We’d get by, Jen” But I am weak.
After church and a nap we had dinner and then went for a walk. We’d only been walking 2 minutes when a car going too fast went by, and I reminded the children to get way over when that happens. A second later we heard screams, and looked behind us and I thought it was Zach running down the driveway to us and wondered what happened, but it was our neighbors. The car had hit their dog! I sent the others on the walk, and went to see if I could help. The neighbors were distraught, and holding the poor, beautiful dog (who was obviously a nursing mother) that was also obviously gone. I won’t go into details, but the wife is about 4 months pregnant and I comforted her as she cried, and the husband was cussing a storm and pointed out the neighbor’s car, so I went to the house and asked if he knew he hit the dog, and he said he did and was planning on coming over to apologize, which he did. It was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. So more death!
After the walk, we came inside and I told Alisa if she drew her dream for me, I’d draw my nightmare for her. (I dreamed that Mark and I went on a cruise and drove to the port and got to the ticket counter without our tickets or passports!) if she would draw hers. So I did, and showed it to her, and then she drew hers, but it was a house on fire, with Mark and me standing outside watching. I asked why she didn’t draw the other dream and she said “That was just a made up dream, I wanted to draw a real dream.” (I think she knew I was upset and didn’t want to re-visit it.) So I said “Well, at least we’re outside the house fire” to which she replied “You and Dad. Not the kids, we all died in the fire!”
Great. Just great! Now I will be up at night checking for heartbeats, the smell of propane, AND the smell of smoke! So, all who read this, I’d appreciate an email of all the dreams you had that did NOT come true so I can settle myself just a little bit. Oh, and drive safe and slow, please!
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Anyway, we had a lot of fun. Right after Terrie left, we went for a walk (just a mile) around the loop. I told the older kids they could run ahead if they wanted, which they did. Dylan took off after them, but I figured he’d run out of steam. Uh, nope! His little legs pumped hard and almost kept pace with the kids, though he trailed behind them by a bit. He even kept ahead of Zach for about 1/2 the mile. The rest of the weekend went smoothly, with all the kids entertaining each other. We had a lot of fun. I’m almost positive that Mark didn’t come out of it thinking “Hey, I really want 9 kids now, it’s so much fun!” but they didn’t bother him as he worked in the basement, so he was ‘OK’. After a fabulous email from Bonnie giving me a pep talk from my last post, and Mark getting down to just a few pieces of baseboard left in Zach’s bedroom, we are feeling much more positive. I should even be able to call the Carpet Guy this week!
