Last night Madeline somehow ended up in our bed wedged between Dave and me. (This has become a frequent occurrence. Her pallet beside our bed has lost some of its appeal, especially since she sees the rest of her family all cozy together. Rae sleeps in a co-sleeper, but she’s right beside Mommy.) When I wasn’t nursing Rae, who was having a bit of a rough night, I heard Madeline say some pretty interesting things in her sleep such as:
“Ladybug.”
“Mommy! Mommy!” (Uh, I’m right here – the solid mass you’re continually kicking with your restless legs.)
“My butt hurts.” (She says this when she’s constipated.)
“Mommy, come over here.” (Again, I’m right here. I couldn’t get any closer.)
This morning I asked Madeline what she dreamt about.
“Leroy,” she replied. “It was a good dream.”
Alrighty then.
Leroy is the name of a stuffed dog. She just gave the soft pup, previously named Ivy, the new moniker last night. Oddly enough, she mentioned nothing about searching for her mommy, suffering the pains of constipation or seeing ladybugs.
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