Catch your dreams

Catch your dreams

I don’t really have a memory of sleeping with a particular toy when I was a kid.
My daughter does. She sleeps with and has attachments to multiple
stuffies, particularly, her dream catcher.

I bought the dream catcher at a little plant place on east 12th street that probably sold CBD, hash pipes, little crystals and other mystist accoutrements on the way to pick her up from her Kindergarten class. Julia went to school at EVCS, East Village Community when we lived in EV. I loved that school. There was a huge feeling of community there.

Now I live in NJ, and not so much. There is no pick up and drop off at the school playground. You just put your kid on a bus and give them a kiss goodbye. No socializing with the teacher. No socializing with fellow parents. No giving 5 minutes of insight into your kids life to teacher X, as to what you did this weekend or if she had a tough morning bc it was Fathers day this weekend and she doesn’t have a daddy.

So that particular afternoon, I was rushing from my 1.5 hour reverse
commute from NJ, back to Manhattan to pick her up from school, at her
beloved playground, to see all the friends and moms who I usually only saw
at morning drop off and I had a few extra minutes. As I
walked down east 12th st, there was a pink dream catcher. It looked
handmade, with twigs from someones backyard with pink thread and white
feathers hanging down. I popped in to the plant shop and bought it. I gave
it to Julia as I arrived just in time for pickup. Huffing and puffing...never
late. I never wanted to be “that mom”
To this day, its the last thing she asks for before going to bed every night.

XOXO, Jackie

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