Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Dreams

Every morning, my little boy routine has been the same: "Good morning, sweetheart! (hug) How are you? Did you have a nice rest? Did you have nice dreams? What do you dream about?"






The Baby's answer has been the same for the past year or so: "Elephants and Batman." He refuses to elaborate. It might be Batman riding elephants, or Batman fighting elephants, or him riding on elephants with Batman in the Batmobile.

The Boy has been getting steadily more creative as time goes on. This morning, he was lost in a forest, by himself, with no family, and he ran into Doctor Doom. He ran away, was chased by Dr. Doom, and along came the Rescuebots to save him. They fought Dr. Doom together, drove him away, then went to the fire station to relax. (The Rescuebots, if you haven't met them yet, are small child-friendly Transformers that are a fire truck, police car, helicopter, and bulldozer. They don't fight Decepticons - they fight fires and earthquakes and malfunctioning power plants and rescue animals and stuff like that. The boys love them.)

Little Bear is the only one of the three boys that regularly seems to have scary dreams, which usually revolve around him being left alone, or being unable to find us. Monsters sometimes come out, but mostly it's being left alone. His normal dreams, at least the ones he tells me about, usually consist of him teaming up with Superman or Batman or the Justice League to fight against whichever bad guy is on his mind.






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Last night, Little Bear spent the entire night in his room, without sucking his fingers, for the first time. I'm glad of that, because, as the boys are growing, it's difficult to fit everybody in the bed. We can still do it - they're still little, particularly The Baby, and Little Bear folds into easily portable shapes - but it's not as comfortable as it was two years ago.

The Boy, in particular, has hit another growth spurt over the last month. I noticed it a while ago - when we went out to breakfast and he ate a second breakfast an hour after we got home, followed by lunch two hours later. Sigh.

Costco is going to be our good, good friend later in our children's lives.


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