Mom's Imagination - Open 24/7
Walking on one of the wooded trails around my older son's
school, I noticed a man walking with a child that resembled my
toddler, clothes and all. They were on the trail a small
distance above mine separated by a ravine. I was not absolutely
sure about the accuracy of my increasingly-aged vision, but
nevertheless hurried to reach the trail head where we would both
merge upon the parking lot. Now obviously I knew I had safely
dropped my toddler off at his preschool that morning, but still
wondered why was there such a striking resemblance? As I drew
near I noticed the bleached-blonde-haired gentlemen hastily
packing the child into the passenger front seat. My heart began
to settle since I realized the child was a bit older and not my
son, but I continued to approach anyway. The man slammed the
door to the silver Volvo wagon with slightly tinted glass and
executed a quick jog to the driver's side. As I emerged upon the
road, they drove past me. I noticed that the boy in the front
seat was around six, however, as I scanned the back seat
passengers of the passing car, I did see my beloved toddler
strapped tightly in the driver's side back seat, his expression
marked with a curiosity of "where am I going". PANIC! I could
not believe what I was seeing! It was him! I started chasing the
car and tried to retain every bit of information I could. Driver
- man in his late thirties, beach bum style hair and clothing,
approximately 5'11" and slightly stocky. The car color, year and
license plate with only a local dealer's advertisement were
burned into my memory. I continued to pursue the car and as it
sped from the scene, the sinking feeling of helplessness weighed
on me. I didn't want to stop the chase for I would lose sight of
the direction, yet I needed to call someone in the seemingly
vacant neighborhood to launch the Amber alert and summon the
police. I screamed for help. "Please someone help me!" I began
to cry, sobbing and shouting "No! No! No!"
All the horrible desperation I experienced, feelings that no
parent should ever feel, gently began to dissipate as the dawn
slowly seeped through my watery eyes. At the sight of daylight,
I realized I just had one of the all-time worst dreams ever! I
was still crying and still felt the hopeless feeling of loss
from the abduction of life's most valuable treasure. My husband,
startled awake by my cries of help was given a full recount of
the dream and I remembered everything in vivid detail. After
grounding myself and realizing the rigorous adrenaline surge I
just experienced, I set off to my toddler's bedroom, woke the
snug little bugger, held him, hugged him and kissed him over and
over again. He, a creature of habit, was trying to break loose
of my smothering clutches and merely mumbled "brekfis".
If you have ever had a similar dream, there is no need to tell
you that I was obsessed with my terrible feeling for atleast
half the day. As I recounted the tale to several friends, I felt
the panic and fear all over again. My speech would quicken and I
placed great emphasize through hand and arm gestures during the
most frantic moments. Reaching out, I would grab my girlfriend's
arm as if I was holding on for dear life trying to avoid a
fateful fall into a violent, rushing river. Empathetically, they
would reassure me that "it was just a dream".
All I want to know is what on earth happened to the silly dreams
I used to have before children? Where is the simpleness of being
naked in the back of a classroom not knowing the answers on a
stupid English test? Or how about the invigorating fall from a
skyscaper's needled tip, complete with rushing wind against your
nose-diving face, all the way to about an inch above pavement,
and then awakening with a lunge out from the covers...AHH! And
further, finding it was just a dream and being well able to
proceed throughout the day without another moment's thought.
Even the dreamtime encounter of the long, scaly serpentine
winding itself at my feet was no match for this particular early
morning motherhood sleep encounter.
While it is tempting to analyze whether my dream was symbolic of
my little babe growing up so fast and the different ages and
stages being packed into that same vessel, fleeting as life
does, or whether I should learn to pursue concerns to the very
end even if they begin to appear erroneous, is moot. The fact
remains that worry and concern during the waking hours is just
not enough for the mind of a mother.
In all, let us consider all the dangers from which we mothers
must be prepared to save our children. First, there are real
dangers such as stray dogs, harmful cleansers or possible falls,
with the list changing as the child grows. Then, there are
daydream dangers of having to rescue our children from burning
buildings, cars plummeting off of a bridge into icy water and
defensive moves against blatant bad guys (such as the two-headed
purple people eater). And then, finally, when we are to be
getting restful sleep at our most sub-conscious level, instead,
we must still fight off more worrisome scenarios.
For me, I thank goodness that studies have shown that beyond
ninety percent of our fears will never come to pass. And, the
ones that do will most likely be along the lines of missing an
ingredient in our favorite dish, forgetting to include clean
socks in our gymbag or mailing a birthday card to a loved one.
Perhaps, even those would cause stress, but anything is better
than harm directed in the way of our little ones. Therefore, we
can all rest assured that our wild mommy imagination, which
operates day and night, is just another form of creatively
finding ways to keep our children safe, despite any
self-inflicted, heart-pounding effect it may have on us in the
interim.