Friday, April 29, 2011


So the little Monkey has been sick last week. We thought she was getting better as her fever broke on Wednesday. Thursday she was looking pretty miserable.

The only thing that seemed to ease her was her Nuk and her lamb.

Usually she only sleeps with her lamb, but this week it was with her at all times.

At least the lamb helped bring a smile to her face.

Unfortunately she took a turn a day after the above pictures were taken and we had to bring her into the doctor. We discovered that she had an ear infection.

But now she is better than ever. I is nice to see her smiling and laughing again!

Monday, April 18, 2011

Miami Vice

I have recently been reading a co-worker's blog, so it explains why I dreamt about her and her family. She writes a lot about food and her daughter's development which you will see reflected in my dream. I have no explanation for the rest of the dream. I had several dreams this weekend… most I only slightly remember (Alec Baldwin?, quitting Facebook?), but this one was so clear and vivid I had to share. Enjoy.

Dream 4/15/11

I had just arrived at a co-worker's house and was standing in her kitchen. E and I work at the same company and used to interact more, but now I rarely see her so it seemed odd that I was hanging out at her house. We went to her house right after work and were going to make some food before a party she was having. As I stood there I thought "Why am I here? I know her, but would she really have invited me to one of her parties? This doesn't seem realistic". At any rate, she started making something like eggs and biscuits. She set a very small cast iron pan on the stove to heat up. The stove was brown in color and had a flat, counter like extension on the right. I thought it was very clever since there was no other counter nearby. So E cracks the egg on top of the flat part of the stove and it actually cooks a little. She cuts off the white part of the egg and flips it over into the cast iron pan. She then takes the yolk part of the egg and puts it on top of the white part of the egg in the pan. She is doing this all in a very instructional way as she is trying to teach me how she makes her version of eggs for this dish. I am taking it all in and thinking "I would have just poached that egg in the microwave" and "I think I might need to get a cast iron pan".

She completes the egg and places it on a plate and then places the plate on a dark wood table in the middle of her kitchen which is crowded with paper and other items. She turns to me and says "Didn't you want to take a picture of that?" Uh, ok. I look down and, hey there's my camera bag! I pick it up off the floor and prepare it to take a picture (it has the zoom lens on it). I keep trying to take a good picture, but can't get it quite right. I am trying to get just the egg on the plate, but keep getting some papers or the floor. Apparently I can't zoom close enough.  I give up.

I then notice there is a large room off the kitchen which has light blue carpet and a desk on one side. I notice there is a HUGE door in the middle of the room that shuts off one side of the room or the other. The door opens and closes and I see E's husband, B, at the desk working on his computer. I remark how that is the BIGGEST door I have ever seen. E remarks back with something about the usefulness of it. I realize I have not seen A, E and B's daughter, until I look down and she is cuddled up on the floor with a stuffed animal nearby and looking very tired. I look at the microwave clock and notice it is 6:43 pm. I remark that it must be near her bedtime which is confirmed by E and B. I go over to A, not sure how she will respond to me since we have never met. However, she grabs for the hand I hold out for her and lets me pull her up to her feet. She then walks hesitantly around the room holding on to only one of my hands. As she gains confidence she builds speed and now B and E are following after us. We round back to the kitchen when she does the following several times: she jumps into the air and kicks her feet together. We all get very excited about this and are laughing at how unexpected and awesome this is. Someone keeps commenting that she is doing an Irish jig.

I am especially impressed and keep commenting how advanced that is and that my daughter is no where near doing the Irish jig. When everything calms down E comments that even though I might think A is advanced she is worried that she might have (insert two unrelated letters here) based on some of her other behaviors. I have never heard of this and assure her that A seems more than fine to me. As A and I had been walking through the house I notice that all the furniture has an antique or vintage feel to it. I recall seeing pictures of E's house on her blog and notice the furniture doesn't quite match up especially the couch which is wicker with yellow cushions. Plus, there is a room that looks to have been recently gutted. I wonder what the plans for that room is.

People start arriving for the party. Everyone is hanging out, talking, eating, drinking... enjoying themselves. At some point everyone starts saying "Joe is here". Of course, it gets my attention because I hear my name, but realize they are not talking about me (as usual). We are all looking out the back door and windows and see a man stepping out of a semi truck in the driveway. E and B say something about it being a Tuesday and that they mentioned he should come on another day as they are not open today. Apparently, E and B have become so know in the antique/vintage furniture shopping world that they even have their own store they run out of their garage. Joe comes by regularly and he buys and sells furniture to them. So Joe leaves and a young man (mid to late teens?) comes up to me and says "are we ready to go?" In real life I don't know who he is, but I know that we are related in the dream. I know that I am driving him and his mom home. The second time he comes up to me and asks to leave I agree. I go over to E to say my goodbyes. I don't know why I do the following as I am not much of a hugger, but I go in to hug her and say goodbye and thanks. She pulls back, her body language clearly telling me that hugging is NOT ok. She shoots out a hand to shake and we have an awkward goodbye. Don Johnson then walks in the door as he is our ride home. Yes, that Don Johnson.

Next thing I know we are outside a gas station convenience store. Don and the teen's mom are in the store and the teen and I are waiting outside. We are standing against two different cars when a couple of tough looking guys walk up and evidently know the young man I am with. The one mean guy starts talking to the young teen as if the teen owes him for something. The larger, burlier of the two guys stands back as if he is waiting to step in and do the real damage. I wonder if they think I am with the teen and if I can walk away without getting hurt. Why am I not thinking about the teen's safety? I'm not sure. Perhaps I am feeling scared and selfish... perhaps I feel he has whats coming.  I look at the car the teen was leaning against. It is black and old, but in pristine shape. Is it an old GTO?

That is certainly a car that I could see Nash Bridges driving and saying "hey Bubba" in. I decide to slowly make my way away from the GTO (and the danger) and head around the corner of the gas station. The large, burly guy is following me with his eyes so I know I am not in the clear. As I round the corner I see another sweet, muscle car. This one is a little more sporty, but also black. Both car's paint jobs make the black look like it is still liquid. They are both so clean and polished they don't seem real.  I see a guy sitting in the front of the car and think "this could also be Don Johnson's car". I jump in the back seat only to realize I am in the front seat, or am I? I realize that the seats are facing away from each other and the car can be driven either way. The guy in the car turns to me and hands me the keys. I look down at them and notice the key looks like a small dagger (and actually starts the car!). I look over at the driver seat only to notice a security device strapped on the clutch pedal. It, like all the chrome in the car, is shiny and sleek. Now the large, burly  guy is heading towards the car. What do I do? Do I run? Obviously the car won't get me anywhere. Suddenly, Don Johnson is getting into the car and driving us away...

And then I wake up.