The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of

I think that the baby is taking over.  You can see its obvious conquest around my midriff.  I have surrendered this territory with the hopes of gaining it back.  At some point.  Probably when the child is 6.

But, and I think it has expanded his or her territory.  I am now quite certain that the child has taken control of my mind.  Sometimes whilst talking, I'll forget what I'm talking about or how to use words in general.

"Sure, sure," you say - "that's just how you are.  I know you of old and this is merely one of those side effects of being Rebecca."

You could be right.  I can't remember.  But I have more evidence.  Early on with baby and now again, my nights are filled with strange dreams.  Odd, really.  Have you ever dreamed that your sister killed a mouse that resembled a pair of socks that you own?  Or that Stephen King kept putting peas in your pasta after communion?

In the books I've read about babies, there are tidbits of information about how often they sleep in a day and how much of that is REM.  They wonder what babies dream about.  Probably shapes and in black and white, they claim.

I think it's more like this.  Baby takes the opportunity to glean Mommy's mind of information.  It takes little pieces from here and there, some memories, some musing, some facts and figures.  It then tries to assemble these in a reasonable way.  It's just not quite sure how yet.  So it presses them through the placenta while Mommy is asleep and up to the cavalry occupying the brain space.  The brain space shows Mommy the nightly feature who then wakes up confused and somehow even tireder.

(I should posit that this isn't paranoia.  This is supposed to be funny, but I'm really tired right now.  I was traveling in my dreams a lot.  Also, I was an arts student and science is a big pretty mystery to me)