About a week ago, I had a nightmare. 

I dreamed that there was a knock at our front door.  Keep in mind, a knock at the door is a daily occurance around here.  We live in close proximity to quite a few schools and there are a lot of politically active people in our neighborhood.  Someone is always fundraising or trying to get you to swing your vote.

In this nightmare, I ignored the knock.  So the dream was, virtually, reality because that is exactly what I do when I'm awake, except that I usually see the person coming and shut the blinds first.

In my dream, I ignored the knock, only to hear three, consecutive knocks a few moments later.  Against my better judgement, I opened the door only to be pushed back into my foyer by an intruder with a gun.

Then I woke up.

This nightmare will stay with me for awhile.  I know that.  I clearly remember two nightmares I had when I was eight years old, a series of them that I had when my ex-boyfriend was harassing me and one a few years ago about me, my husband, our two kids and the SUV in which we were riding going over the side of a cliff.  Whoever said that dreams are rainbows and unicorns doesn't know a thing about my brain.

Last night, in my real life, someone rang the doorbell and I ignored it.  A few moments later, there were three, consecutive rings.  It was just like what I had experienced in my dream.

My 11 year old daughter asked, "Are you going to answer the door?"

I replied, "No."

She questioned me further.  "Why?  Are you thinking about that dream you had?"

"No", I lied.

She was on to me.  She glared at me and said, "You know, Mom, you can't let your nightmares control your life."

I may not be as smart as she is, but I'll be damned if I didn't open that door.

Labels: Family Life, Kids, Ramblings