One of your worst fears

For two nights’ running, I have had a very vivid, real dream that my son was kidnapped at his preschool. The first night’s dream, Sunday night’s, included a strange key figure – Mehmet Oz. I am not a big fan of Dr. Oz, but I don’t dislike him either. I don’t really think that much about him, to tell you the truth, but there he was, a key figure in my dream. I was trying desperately to get ahold of him because nobody would believe my son was missing and he knew me and I knew he would believe me and get the ball rolling in efforts to search for him. Someone finally was able to reach him and he came to wherever I was and gave me a big hug and said everything would be ok, and then he marshalled all the forces and made the police start doing their job. He wasn’t in last night’s nightmare, but it was a completely unbelievable circumstance whereby I came to pick D up from school and he wasn’t in his room and we couldn’t find him. But the school administrators were totally laid back about it, like I had lost a hat or something and they were like, “oh, he’ll turn up, he probably went home with another kid or something. Just go home and we’ll let you know when we hear from him.” This is, of course, the OPPOSITE of how our wonderful school administrators would really react in such a situation. I was horrified but for some reason thought I should take their word for it, so I left and went home and told my husband. He was underneath one of our cars working on fixing it (so yeah, TOTALLY a dream, ha) and blew it off saying they probably knew what was best and to just wait until we heard from them. That was a Monday. By THURSDAY I was calling them and I’m like, look, I don’t mean to be a pest (A PEST? REALLY?) but it’s been several days now, and I think it’s really not good that D is nowhere to be found. They finally agreed to halfheartedly start looking around for him and asking questions, and I was tearing my hair out.

Both nights, I woke up very suddenly and was covered in sweat. I really do not sweat much. I am more lizard than human when it comes to heat, and even in the summer I sleep with covers and eschew air conditioning whenever I have control over doing so. So to be drenched with sweat, TWICE, is kind of unusual.

I think the missing child dreams have to be as a result of a blogger I follow who recently lost her 14 month old son to SIDS (after 12 months old it’s technically not called SIDS, but SUCD, but it’s the same thing). Her story has touched me deeply and the absolute and complete lack of any explanation for such a thing happening must be what my mind can’t get around, thus imagining in my subconscious my son being ripped from my life without warning or adequate explanation. Sometimes I really wish I could let shit go.

Yesterday, I got wise and took the day after the Oscars off. It was actually a lovely, leisurely day, with an hour-long hike in the metroparks and an opportunity to catch up on some things that really needed caught up, like vacuuming and cleaning out the fridge. We had a hodge-podge dinner last night in trying to focus more on Mediterranean while also eating what we have on hand; leftover pasta with pork ragu sauce, rag tag veggies from various containers put together, a dish of yogurt, banana and walnuts, a dish of the last of the feta cheese with kalamatas, olive oil and cracked pepper.

Tonight will be a humbling experience, as I am meeting another kind friend who has made a bunch of food for my family that we can stick in the freezer and eat our way through. This is good because payday is not until Thursday and pretty much all that money is leveraged away for bills, so I greatly appreciate the generosity. How exactly do you accept gifts like this and not cry?

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