Mmmm..coffee...

Really bizarre dreams again last night.  At one point I remember standing on a corner with some sort of grassy embankment, furiously picking up soggy toys and stuffing them into an assortment of duffle bags that I just happened to have with me.  Then I was on a train with my sister, Steve, Natalie, Rena, and a couple other shapeless mystery people, when Steve got the idea that we just "leave" the train (easier said than done, even in a dream) in Boston and then somehow make it to Pennsylvania to catch our connecting flight to Seattle.  Now, this is not entirely out of character for my husband, but really, why Pennsylvania?  Of course it was all high jinks and disaster, ending with a biker-looking guy asking me for my social security number and then giving me a word puzzle to solve, in order to determine which departing flight I would be on.  One of those days where it was actually a relief to wake up.

I stumbled into the bathroom in the half-dark and caught my reflection in the mirror, and I must say I look just like Julia Louis-Dreyfuss after a nice nose-job this morning, such is the volume of my hair.  Where was this hair in 1991?  I could have saved a fortune in hair products, not to mention the time I spent bonding with my blow-dryer and curling iron.  Hrm.  That's just how it goes though.  I seem to be a perpetual late bloomer; not quite mastering my techniques until it's too late and I've already moved on to the next phase of my evolution.  Right now I think I'm heading toward supreme momness.  I prettied myself up for little Max's birthday party last night and really looked like I was trying out for the remake of Family Ties.  What was the mom's name? Carol?  No, that was Growing Pains.  Well, whatever, the point is I felt all momish and conservative in my cords-that-come-up-to-your-real-waist and my straight boring hanes shirt and little silver chain with family birthstone pendant.  Very strange.  I'm wondering if maybe I should embrace this, though.  At what point to I give up the ghost and admit that I am seriously  not 25 anymore, and that, quite frankly, I don't want to be.  Or do I?  What was so great about that anyway?  Sure, I'm a tad bit more upholstered in my 30's (which is horrible) but other than that (and two more babies)  I still have the same man and the same job and....well, that's all I do so I can just stop there.

I have no answers.  My brain hurts just getting that far into it at 0530.  I need more coffee.  And I really need to figure out why there is a nearly empty cream cheese container in my purse.