The Chosen One

Well, I'm quickly approaching my first year of blogging, and since my brain cells are being held hostage by the small person growing inside of me, I have no creative ideas for celebrating the bloggiversary other than riding the current Meme wave coasting through the blogosphere.

I'm going to take on Mindy's Groups of Threes Meme from her post today over at MamaDrama.

But before I begin, I have to share what's really been rocking my world lately:

Saturday night, my DH had this dream where we all (me, him, the two dogs) were living in some sort of Swiss Family Robinson tree house and then all of a sudden these WWII bomber planes started attacking and we had to escape. He had time to rescue me and only one of the dogs. He had to decide which dog to save: Blanco or Tex. Blanco was the chosen one for "always being there and loyal" and stuff.

So when he woke up and told me the dream, he asked me which dog I would choose to rescue.

Jeez. This was really tough. My first thought was "whichever one comes when I call the fastest" but DH said I would have time and basically I had to choose. If it involved climbing down a treehouse, I would pick Blanco since he weighs 25 lbs. Much easier to carry than Tex at 55. Then after some thought I realized I would have to choose Blanco, because he is smart enough--and I swear this is true--to realize in his final moments that if he had not been chosen that he had been left behind. Abandoned. Unwanted. Tex just doesn't think on this level. But Blanco does.

So I, too, chose Blanco.

And I felt guilty for the rest of the day thinking that maybe Tex thinks I don't love him as much. Which is totally not true. I love both boys equally, if for different reasons. And, like I said, Tex just doesn't think beyond the "eat-sleep-poop-get pet-be mischevious" level.

But, I mean, this really rocked my world. How do you choose? When you have kids, do you have horrible dreams like this, where you can only save one child? How do you get over that thought? Does the kid/dog/goldfish you didn't choose in your dream get extra dessert/pets/treats for until you at least feel less guilty for not choosing them even though it was just a stupid dream? Seriously, I am way too upset over this.

And to make matters "worse", I think Tex is getting closer and closer to speaking English. Our friend Rick swears he taught Tex how to read and speak Spanish while he was living at their house the first few months we were in Ireland. Why wouldn't he just start talking?

Seriously, Tex freaks us out with the noises he makes. The other night, my DH swears Tex said "Help me" just like Jacob two episodes of LOST ago. . .it was really strange. Tex's vocal range is expanding from just wookie noises to more human-sounding things. It's really freaky.

So enough about the dogs and the crazy WWII bomber dream. Right now the boys are perfectly safe and content and seemingly have no clue as to which one is the chosen one. For now.