I dreamt that I got boo stoned last night. I was sharing a joint with him and then I stopped and was like, wait, I probably shouldn’t be doing this, right? But I couldn’t remember why. I was wracking my brain and knew there was a good reason. Then I thought, oh, can’t it affect his brain function later in life?

The other night I dreamt he’d drowned. Can’t really talk about it here. It was so horrible I couldn’t shake it all day. In the dream it was my fault because I hadn’t been watching him, I’d been distracted by something on TV. It was the worst thing that ever happened to me, and it was a dream.

I imagine lots of parents have this type of dream. These days there are so many things to worry about. I had this conversation with my friend Leslie the other day about baby products. She pretty much doesn’t trust anything. She doesn’t think California Baby is clean enough, the baby wash or the sunscreen. I use those Whole Foods brands, just assuming they’re safe. But lately I’ve been using cheap diapers, not the chlorine free ones, to save money and I feel guilty about it. (I use the chlorine free wipes.) Of course you don’t want to put anything toxic on your baby’s skin, but you can make yourself crazy either. He has one pair of those warm, fleece pajamas and I only let him wear them because they were a hand-me-down so the flame retardant has been long washed out, but last night he was so sweaty in the night and this morning, his skin was clammy, so I feel guilty and think he probably shouldn’t wear them anymore. He’s got an organic cotton mattress and mattress pad and all natural products, he only eats healthy, organic foods, largely sugar free, but he plays with two rubber duckies in the bath that he absolutely adores and Leslie told me rubber duckies are the worst of the worst.

It’s enough to make you crazy. Or at least have crazy dreams.