Last night at about four a.m., Wrenn ran into our room yelling and scared us to death. We bolted out of bed, adrenaline turned full blast. Turns out, she had a really bad dream. When questioned, she told us tearfully that it was about "God's big old car". No further explanation was provided.

I have no idea how terrifying that must have been. I mean, God's car? Come on-- you know that's gotta be intimidating. But, she recovered, and dreamed quietly the rest of the night.

Anyway, her dramatic entrance interrupted my own strange dream, which I so wanted to share. But there's just no way to tell a dream you had without boring the pants off everybody listening, so I'll spare you the details. I will tell you, however, that I was Mrs. Luke Skywalker, we'd defeated the Dark Side, and there was swing dancing. There was also a little anxiety over future employment for my husband and whether there would be a pension check from the rebel forces. Oh, and if he'd ever used "Jedi tricks" to meet women before.

Motto of this story: Be careful what you watch before bedtime when you're pregnant.

It could have been weirder, though. At least I wasn't Mrs. Yoda.