Sorry--to you and my Ex's

So apparently when I write things that I don't want anyone else to know, they all come out negative. Ugh. The problem is, it's hard to find a time to write when no one is around to snoop over my shoulder (remember? This is a secret release?) so the only time I have squeezed it in so far is when I am compelled to get the thoughts down so that they don't overwhelm me into outer darkness (i.e., negative.) I'll try to be better.

Remember how I said that I may have to write about dreams that I have about ex-boyfriends? Well, here comes the first installment.

I always dream. My husband doesn't. It would be one thing if he didn't really remember them, or they were a little weird. But just never to dream?! I guess that was one of the ways that we attracted oppositely. Because I DREAM. Very vivid. Very realistic. I often wake up and have to convince myself that what happened is not something to worry about because it was only happening in the confines of my elaborate brain. That sneaky brain. Always messin' me up. Why is it that it won't recall where I put my keys when I am late for a doctor's appointment (whose secretaries--I'm positive--punish me for being 1.5 minutes late by making me wait an extra HOUR for my appointment.) but it will go on and on about stressful minutia when I sleep? Is it crazy to think your brain is taunting you? But I digress...

As I was saying, I dreamt about a boyfriend again. It was Jersey. Jersey who was the nicest guy in the world and, at one point, I thought I would marry. Jersey who worked the summer slaving away at two jobs so he could save up enough to fly out and produce a ring. Jersey who didn't see it coming. Jersey who still loved me even though I was the biggest jerk in universe and spurned his every attempt to reconcile. Jersey. I've felt a lot of regret about Jersey.

So, as follows the pattern of my dreams, I dreamt about him. I often dream about boyfriends who I felt I did a disservice to. Like somehow I can make it right or something. And I can't tell The Spouse about these dreams anymore because he still feels some kind of wierd jealousy about it. I try to explain it's because I was so LAME that I dream about them--not because I still yearn for them or desire them--it's just that subconsciously I still feel like I need to make things right. But he gets threatened. So I don't bring them up. So here comes the writing therapy.

My dream this time had strange elements as usual (so maybe I should say "normal" elements?): for example, Michael Baryshnikov directing a movie with one of my love interests in it...?! But in the end, there was Jersey. He came up and put his arm around me, his hand a little lower than it should be for just an old friend. I was surprised and a little uncomfortable with it. I sort of shrugged away subtely, turned to him and remembered that he was married and had a family. So I tried to be all light and asked him about them. I said, "You're married! And I know you have at least two kids--tell me about your family!" He said he had a wife and four kids, actually. To which I replied, "Four kids--that's great! I know you wanted to have a big family. What are your kids names and ages?" He looked down and said, "Only one of them's mine."

Huh?

Then, as only dreams can do, I saw his life play out as he told me about how his wife was a theatre major in school and so when he first found the ticket stubs for events, he just assumed she'd been going with friends. And then he found that he'd been paying for an extra cell phone and other random things...and he realized that she'd been cheating on him and he was convinced that the last 3 kids were the other guys'.

AHHHHHHHHH!

And suddenly I realized that he looked on me as someone to help heal his pain...and I wasn't going to. Again. I was happily married, with a family of my own. And I was trying to find a way to make it not awkward and yet still make him feel better...when I woke up. Ah! Another frustrating dream! Why can't I just dream that these guys are happy and well-adjusted now and we can be friends and have our kids play together under sun-shady trees, with the ex's palling around with The Spouse by the barbie...?!

Well, I guess even my brain realizes that The Spouse wouldn't let it get that far. But I would like to think that one of these days I'll dream about them in a benign way--like in passing, or something. I do have a lot to regret from the dating days--but I've tried to repent and forget. Why can't my brain let it go?

cats and kids

As we were driving home tonight, I had to stop to change Mr. B's diaper. I pulled into some obscure parking lot, intending to get in and out before Lil Jr broke out of his almost-bedtime stupor.

Didn't happen.

As I was getting Mr. B out of his carseat, I felt something brush up against my leg. My first thought was that it was exhaust. (?) Then I thought I was paranoid (not a bad assumption). But when I felt it again, I looked down to find a cat breezing in and out of my legs. I shuddered. I just wanted to get Mr. B outta his seat, changed, and back in as quickly as possible so that I could get away from the probably-flea-infested animal. I told it to leave. It didn't. I stopped mid-change to take the time to tell it again, then hissed, and then barked.

It took that as an open invitation to jump into the car.

I freaked. I dropped Mr. B back into his chair and grabbed for the lithe thing. Took me a couple tries, and all the while I was completely grossed out that I was touching it at all and it had come from who knows where?! I tossed it a few feet away, grabbed Mr. B and ran around to the driver's seat to finish the changing process--just managing to get the door closed before the cat pounced again.

I awkwardly changed Mr. B around the steering wheel, all the while cursing the cat for his role in my tardiness. Then I put Mr. B back into his seat, again completely awkwardly, without getting out of the car. Just in case.

As I was about to drive away, I realized that my coat was sticking out of the door. I thought about leaving it like that all the way home. Just in case.

But I like that coat, so I opened the door, yanked the coat in, and closed the door as quickly as humanly possible. Just in case.

And in that tiny moment I saw the cat right there. Waiting to come in. And that is the image I had in my head all the way home. And as I put my kids to bed. And right now. And I feel completely GUILTY.

That poor little cat was probably lost and scared and cold (the wind was relentless today) and I shoved it out of my life like a contagious pariah--afraid of the possibility what--fleas? Dirt? That my kids might take a liking to it? I don't know. I feel sick about it. When did I get so cold?

Seriously, the most disturbing thing about it is that it reminded me of a small child--looking up at me with those big, innocent eyes. Why couldn't I have had more compassion? It's one of God's creatures and I left it in the dust. As I drove home I thought of all the possible scenarios of if I would have been nice to it. It wouldnt' have left me alone, that was for sure. If I had put it in the car, where would it go? My brother got fleas from our cat growing up and they got everywhere--it's tainted me--and all I could think about were those nasty little red bites all over Mr. B or Lil Jr. Ugh.

But then I thought about how there was a roaming dog in our neighborhood recently and my neighbors were really good about calling someone to come get it and waiting with it until the Sheriff showed up HOURS later. Should I have done something like that? Was Animal Control even open at that hour? Or should I have brought it home, asked The Spouse to pick up some litter, and kept it until I could get it to a shelter? But then that brings up the attachment issue with the kids, not to mention the inevitable flea shampoo.

Ok. So I'm not sorry that I didn't bring it home. But I AM really sorry that I wasn't a better example of loving animals to my boys. I tried to make up for my hasty negativity on the way home by telling Lil Jr that it was probably just lonely and we should have been nicer to it. But that didn't really ease my conscience. I don't like cats. Never have. But I don't want to influence my kids one way or the other. So next time I'll be nicer. And I won't leave my coat in the door.