What if You Never Dream at All, Then?

Earlier today, I drafted a post about how I never lose sleep over anything. Almost nothing, anyway. The rare nightmare or the brief visits with Jack halt my REM for awhile, but I was all set to write about how I'm not your typical twenty-something insomniac.

But.

Here I am, world, sitting awake on my bed because I can't sleep.

And I know she's going to feel badly about this when she reads this, so here's my disclaimer: Hey You, it's okay. I'm thrilled for you. I can't say it enough times.

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Caleb and I were talking today, while I washed dishes and he wrangled the baby.

We tossed around the idea of only having one kid. One Jack and that's it. For me, it's a selfish thought because a) I can't stand to put myself in a position of a potential miscarriage again, b) I feel ill-equipped to raise one child, let alone more, and c) one kid seems like a rebellion in our culture and I'm always looking for ways to be rebellious.

It's just an idea. I doubt it will stick.

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I really need to find out what I want from my life. And if after my brainstorm I find that I can't get what I want with what I have now, I need to alter the course of my human events.

I still can't sleep.