Colorado Dreamin'.

So I've been having some really odd dreams lately. Even odder is that I'm actually remembering some of them longer than the first 5 minutes I'm awake. I've heard that dreams are our brains' way of working out problems while we're sleeping, but I just can't see how some of them are working anything out at all. They're just, well, silly.


The other night in Dreamland....

Jacob, the Marine who lost his legs in Afghanistan 18 months ago or so, sought me out to go to the thrift store. Mind you, I've never met him in real life, as we know his wife, not him, so I was quite flattered that he wanted to spend any time with me. 

Instead of going to the typical thrift stores, we went to this big building with lots of corridors and rooms that didn't seem claustrophobic but airy. He was looking for something to surprise his wife, Ella, but he wasn't sure what it was. Finally, we came to the corner of the room, and there was a big dollhouse on the table. Because he and Ella are expecting a little girl in a few months, he was very interested. And as soon as he saw a little plastic Nativity scene that was in the shape of a ball that all the little characters fit in neatly. Sort of like one of those puzzle balls where you put the star block in the star-shaped hole. 

They wanted $40 for it, but he realized he'd left his money somewhere else, so he asked me to stay and watch to make sure nobody else bought it. While I was waiting, I noticed some sort of a lottery or bingo or something going on where they were giving little gifts away. As I watched the participants, I was acutely aware of the fact that I didn't want any of them to get Jacob's dollhouse, all the time sizing up the gifts that they were starting to fight over and trying to determine, if it was even worth getting a late start into the game.

It wasn't. So I decided to walk around and see some of the other rooms I hadn't seen yet. (So much for watching the dollhouse!) I came across a vendor who was set up in the stairwell landing. The shop owner was being told by the owner of the building he was no longer allowed to sell his wares, which greatly distressed me, because I found something I wanted. They were white flannel pajamas with all of the NFL team helmets on them along with a list of each player on the teams for the 2013 season. I knew that Hopper would love them, so I talked him into selling me the set I was already holding onto when he was told to pack things up. 

I wrote out a check, since he'd had to pack away his credit card machine. As I reached for the receipt, he held up my bra with a smirk on his face! (It was the same one I'd seen in the wash earlier in the day when I was washing laundry in real life. I remember thinking at the time that I really needed a new bra. It no longer really fits right after I've lost weight. Plus I had to remove the underwires after they snapped in half. So it really is a mess!) 

I was about ready to die of embarrassment when he started swinging it around! I told him he needed to give it back. Now! And he responded, "It's not doing you any good anyway. I mean, look at your physique!" Unfortunately, that physique looked the same in the dream as it does in the real world, so I was pretty much mortified at my lumpiness when I woke up. 

Obviously, it's time to get a new bra. I've lost just under 30 pounds since August, and while that's nothing compared to what I need to lose, it's a start. And losing that much weight really does change how a bra fits, so I'm thinking I need to stop dreaming about it and actually go shopping and do something about it.

Still, I wonder, if Jacob got the dollhouse and what Ella thought of it.

They really DO exist!

In spite of the fact that I am feeling better than I have in well over a week, I'm getting a bit tired of the nightly visits from the Phlegm Phaeries. And while I have not personally seen them during their visits, I can attest to the fact that they do exist.

From what I've ascertained, they have magical bags of phlegm that they carry around-much like Santa's magic bag of toys. No matter how much phlegm they loosen from its insides and pass around, the bag never seems to lose any of it's ooey gooey grossness. And one thing's for sure, those Phlegm Phaeries are generous to a fault! They just give, and give, and give. 

I'm pretty sure mine is a Phlegm Phaerie in Training, though. In her exuberance to impress the Phlegm Pharaoh with her skills, she's accidentally gone overboard and given me more than she was supposed to. I'm hoping he notices soon and gives her the proverbial boot.

You know. 

Before I give her the phinger.

Gurgling along.

My lungs sort of sound like Snap, Crackle, and Pop are in there trying to catch the herd of frogs that crawled in there to die. Stupid wheezing. 

Scooter had a much better day today than she did yesterday. Awhile ago, Hubster got Hopper and Scooter some used field jacket liners like the one he uses all the time, because they'd steal his and wouldn't want to give it back. They love them, but the liners look so much alike, they often grab the wrong one. So for a little Valentine's surprise, I took an old scrap of fabric and went all Laverne and Shirley on them.

I made a huge heart-shaped pocket on the right side, and then I cut out the initial of their first names and sewed them on the left breast. Hubster put the little heart shaped box of candy he'd bought them in the heart pockets, and tossed in a small box of conversation hearts. We left them on the couch, so the girls would see them first thing in the morning. They were thrilled with them, and Scooter wore hers most of the day.

Scooter was in a great mood all day and 'sang' and 'danced' all morning. Because Scooter is completely nonverbal, she doesn't actually sing, but don't tell her that! When she's panting in rhythm and tapping her foot, (especially while standing!), she's singing and dancing. And she was singing, dancing, and grinning from ear to ear most of her waking hours today, which was such a nice change after yesterday!

Hopper's day didn't go quite as smoothly. She had a bit of a meltdown, and we're not exactly sure why. She had a panic attack over Hubster changing from his thick wool long johns to a lighter weight pair. We have never figured out, (other than her OCD), why his long johns and running gear set off panic attacks and meltdowns, but it absolutely kills us that we can't seem to help her. Thankfully, medication does help some, but it still doesn't prevent it completely, and it breaks our hearts. Panic attacks and anxiety are hard enough to handle when you are capable of knowing what they are. They're doubly hard when you don't understand what's happening, and that they'll eventually go away. She was fine after Hubster left for work, but I'm sad she had to go through it at all.

I'm hoping the weekend is a bit more restful for all of us, since we're fighting off this crud. We need as much rest as we can get. Hopper seems to have already seen the worst of it and is on the mend, but Scooter and I have a ways to go. 

Hopefully, we can sing and dance our way through it.