It's funny how a peaceful day in real life can wind up into a screaming match in my dreams. Honestly, Thursday was a relatively decent day when it came to yelling matches between Kiddo and I. He's stubborn (just like his Daddy) and he takes after my Father who also is a Scorpio. Seems like I leave home after meeting Hubby-to-be, have a few years of peace and quiet, then Kiddo comes along who is the perfect replica of my Dad. His temperment is exactly like my Dad's... maybe my Dad is a toddler at heart even tho he's well into his 80's.
So my dream starts out where what can only be described as my dream house. Vaulted ceilings, two story, gorgeously spacious with a living room, dining room, family room and gourmet kitchen adjoining it. It's the kind of house you could see on one of those "Housewives" shows. It's a shame the dream took the turn it did, I mean, this was the house I've always wanted, couldn't I have focused a bit more on it?
I'm not sure what perspective I was in. Was I playing myself or watching on like a bystnader? I'm thinking bystander, but I saw that it was myself in the dream.
I don't recall events but I was having a screaming match with Kiddo. He wasn't listening (surprise, surprise) and something was either broken, misplaced, something that shouldn't have been touched, whatever. I dont' think my decibal level wasn't over into the "OMG she's lost it" kind of scream, but it was definitely up there.
Hubby walks in the door and asks what happen. I wasn't hysterical but very, very animated. He stood there just placidly listening and watching Kiddo run amuck in the family room, ripping up and tearing the place to bits.
When Hubby mentioned that all the neighbors in the neighborhood were complaining that they could hear me yelling at our son, I was sick with the idea that my name as a Mom was being tarnished. I felt horrible. I looked around me and felt like I had to pick up and move to get away from the gossip.
I looked at the walls and thought, "How paper thin are we?" I think apartment living has got to me and it's surfacing in my dream. When I do have to yell at Kiddo for trying to kill the cat or take a swing at me (I blame the video games he watches us play, I'm sure Warcraft running in the background doesn't help), I do raise my voice to curb him. I've always hated disciplining because one little tap on his hand and he goes into this very well acted cry (Kiddo should be a politician or an actor, they're pretty much the same except one is going to screw you over) that probably to the neighbors (in real life) think that I'm being the snot out of him. Trust me. There are moments where he severely tries my patience and I wish I could but I don't.
So, in the dream I'm left wondering about my Mommy skills and the ruckus Kiddo was causing, and the taking a moment to think about how much I actually yell at our son. Pick up and move because of the smear on my good name?
In the end of the dream I was just plain exausted from having to deal with all of this. I think Hubby (in the dream) retreated to his make believe world of video games (no surprise there, either) which made me even more mentally wiped out. I'm telling you, I'm really starting to hate video games because of its reprocussions in real life, so of course it played a role in my dreams.
I woke up from the dream feeling groggy and stiff as if I was fighting an arduous battle. My limbs didn't feel like functioning and felt like lead when I tried to sit up. But one thing that I learned from my dream: I'm not going to yell as much as I do at Kiddo. I never wanted to be "one of those" kind of parents.
Sigh. I hate it when dreams try to teach a lesson.
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