Big Friggin Babies

I woke up Saturday morning with vivid details of my night's dream still lingering in my head.  It was a bit of an odd dream, but also really good.

Upon arriving at a house or restaurant or park (the setting was unmemorable) to hang out with three of my best friends, I was a little surprised to see that all three had babies on their hips - surprised because none of these women actually (in real life) have babies, but only a little because I imagine (in real life) that they someday will.  In contrast, I was very taken aback by the size of the babies.  They were friggin HUGE.  My normally slim girlfriends were completed dwarfed by their ginormous bundles.

One friend’s baby had to have been 50 lbs.  I watched with simultaneous joy and anxiety as she tried to switch her baby from one hip to the other.  Between the flailing chubby arms, the bobbing watermelon head and the sheer weight, I was sure she was going to fall...and probably be crushed to death by her own child.  But she managed.  And a couple minutes later, when she switched hips again it was far more graceful and I was far less worried.  And after a few more minutes I felt a distinct confidence that my friend and her big baby were going to be just fine, that she would simply get used to the size and weight because it was, after all, her baby. 

A little while later (in real life), I described the dream to my mother over breakfast.  I stretched and curled my arms to demonstrate the baby’s size and laughed at the absurdity.  My mom laughed too and then enlightened me as to the obvious meaning of my not so absurd imagination: a baby is an emotional, physical and financial burden whose arrival will weigh on every aspect of my daily life.  Yet, I am equipped to manage the massive change.  I am capable.  I am strong.

Thanks mom.  And thanks subconscious.