A Little Dreamer: Sarah Christensen of Becoming Sarah

Sarah is the author of the very popular, often hilarious, and always heart-warming baby blog Becoming Sarah. On some of my darker days of caring for a newborn with health issues, I could always count on Sarah's blog to lift me out of the shadows with a little (or a lot of) laughter. Her daughter Charlotte is just beautiful and Sarah's stories of their day to day life are equally so. I'm so honored that she agreed to share one of their beautiful moments together here on with two cats today:

 
I hear her counting.  “One! Two! Free! One! Two! Free!” and so I go to her.  “Hey sweetie,” I say as I kneel down.  The door is closed between us, but I can see the shadows her feet cast on the ground.  I know she’s there.

“Momma?” she asks timidly.  “Momma’s right here, baby.  Are you awake?” I respond.  She thinks about it for a moment.  “Yes!” she says.  Then I reach up and twist the knob and push the door open a couple inches.

Her fingers grab the door and she steps back and swings it open.  “Hi Momma,” she says.  “Hi baby,” I say.  I open my arms and she walks into them, picks up her feet, rests her head on my shoulder, silently asks me to hold her.  I always hold her after she wakes up.

“Did you sleep well?” I ask her.  “Did you have beautiful dreams?”

“Yes,” she says.

“What did you dream about?” I ask.  I always ask these questions, always in the same order, and she always answers.  Sometimes she dreams about puppies.  Or pigs.  Sometimes she dreams about the zoo.  Or peacocks.  Or cows jumping over the moon.  Or monkeys.

Maybe she just says whatever pops into her mind when I ask, but I love her answers nevertheless.  The answer to this question is like a glimpse into her two-year-old mind.

“Bubbles,” she answers.  “Jeemed bubbles!” (I dreamed about bubbles).

“Ooh,” I say.  “Bubbles!  What were they doing?”

“Dan-sing,” she whispers, mesmerized by the fantasy.  “Yes,” she says.  “Dan-sing bubbles wike rainbow.”  (Dancing bubbles, like a rainbow).  And for a handful of minutes, we’re lost in her fantasy together.

When she outgrows her naps, it is hearing about her dreams before they’ve had a chance to escape that I will miss the most.