My Mousekateer

 I finished M.'s painting last week.  I leaned into making it sweet.

Somehow, she still is a little spooky to me.

For years, maybe even decades, before my daughter was born, I dreamt about her.  

In the dreams, I was always super busy.  When suddenly, someone in the dream would say, "Hey, here is a baby.  Want it?"  Of course, I always said "yes," even though in the dream, I was always in the middle of a crisis, with my hair on fire.  

In the dream, I would put her on the back seat of the car, or on the bed.  I would tell her to just wait there.  I would be right back. 

I would go back to dealing with the issues in the dream.  Then, in what felt like hours...  I would remember...

Yikes!  I have to check the baby!

I would find her all wilted, kind of dehydrated.  I never had any idea when she had last been changed or fed.  One time she had rolled under the bed and was flat as a pancake.  (This is a dream, remember?)  I patted her back into shape.  All the while, I promised to do better.  She had such a wise understanding look on her little tiny face.  She trusted that I would learn.  

So needless to say, when I finally did have my daughter, I felt like we had known each other forever.