Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

Lucia’s first message to us Friday morning was a great opener.

Lu: I had another horrible dream. Mom and dad absolutely HATED my guts.

Me: That wasn’t a dream. Oh, uh, I mean, how terrible.

Lu: True. It was so stressful

Lauren: Awww. Sad!!
I don’t hate you. I love you.

Lu: I love you too! You were so mean to me mom. Dad was actually trying to be nicer but mom really hated me

Lauren: What was I saying?

Lu: You were just like insulting me and excluding me from everything

Lauren; Awwww. That’s so sad

Lu: I can’t remember exactly but it was horrible 😦

Lucia has been having anxiety dreams the last few nights, probably relating to being in her last semester and going through big transitions. Her dreams can result in sleep disturbances—she’s been known to shower in the middle of the night or burst into our room and yell that Grant needs to do something at Chick-Fil-A. So of course, I was understanding and compassionate.

Me: Tonight, your friend is going to tell you that Brayden hates you, and you’re going to ask to come home, and Mom and I are going to tell you no, and Dobby will eat the last meal you can afford.

Lu: Probably true.

Brayden joined the discussion late, missed the part about it being about bad dreams, and offered to curb stomp said friend.

Me: Over a bad dream? Great!

Speaking of Dobby and meals, we’re back to being tepid on chicken. I made him some delicious sautéed chicken thighs, zucchini, and spinach. Check out his enthusiasm level.

So I got out the ranch dressing and added some. Now we were talking.

The ranch did the trick.

Dobby clearly wasn’t troubled by bad dreams even though his meal barely met his standards. Sleep better, Lu. Life will get better. Or it won’t. Never can tell.

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