Numbers and Dreams

We got our new numbers for July!

On the Girls' List we are

Thank you Betty and John.

And on the Boys' List we are

And since we have received our numbers, we have gone down at least 3 more numbers on the boys' list and one on the girls' list.  How awesome is that!?!

Well the "dream" part of this post is this weekend I had a dream the husband and I were in Africa.  Ethiopia to be exact.  We were shopping and picking out items and just so excited to be there.  We had just arrived and hadn't yet met our little one.  And while gender wasn't mentioned, it just felt that we were there to meet our son.  This isn't the first dream I have had about our child.  Shortly after we started this process - 13 months ago to be exact- I had a dream we adopted a baby boy.  He was in my arms, snuggly, wrapped in a baby blue blanket.  It is amazing how dreams can feel so real and wonderful you don't want to wake up.

Now I know dreams are not prophetic.  I mean if they were boy would I have made out.  Literally!  Several years ago I had a dream these two were sitting on my living room couch.

Jeter was on one end of the couch sulking for some inexplicable reason.  A-Rod was on the other side, smiling and flirting.  And I was the filling in this Yankee sandwich feeling quite like Scarlett O'Hara at the barbecue.  That is until this guy decided to interfere.

Wilson comes up to me, panting in the way only he can, which means he needs to go outside.  NOW.  So I excuse myself and let him out telling him to go potty and hurry.  But the boy decides to take a full service stop so I impatiently close the patio door and return to my guests.  A few minutes later I hear a tapping on the patio glass.  I get up to investigate and Wilson is floating and he is now a vampire dog.  Way to go Wilson!  It was the ol turn into a vampire dog to prevent mum from having fun with the Yankees trick and I fell for it.

Come to think of it, Wilson figures prominently in quite a few of my dreams.  I wonder if he waits until I fall asleep to enter my subconscious Inception style.  I remember another dream I had of the boy and I.  Coming to America at the turn of the century.  We were on the front of a large ship, much like this

Only I think my boy - who I refer to as the Brad Pitt of chocolate labs - is ever more handsome than Mr. Di*Caprio. 

Oh and two words that sum up why I am glad  dreams are NOT prophetic.  Ryan Sea*crest.  That was just weird.  Maybe someday I will explain.  Or not.