DREAMING.

Between the ages of two and six I shared a pink, stuffed animal inhabited bedroom with my older sister Holly. In fact, we even shared the queen sized water bed that occupied most of the living space in that room (the product of four and eventually five kids living with two parents in a three bedroom townhome). We owned a hand-me-down record player by the large window where I would braid my Barbie's hair and sing along to Peter, Paul and Mary's Puff the Magic Dragon. I think it was hard for Holly to share everything in that room with her younger sister, but she did, and I loved her for it. When cassettes became popular, Holly got a portable radio/cassette player for her birthday (I know, trust me it was a big deal) and her first tape – Michael Jackson's Bad.

For months that MJ tape was the cats pajamas and got more play than a schoolyard jungle gym. Although the tiny room saw it's share of groundings and sibling rivalry, what I remember most are the nights Holly would lay awake with me dreaming. Dreaming of Christmas mornings on hot July nights, of what roller coasters we would be brave enough to ride that year at the amusement park and dreaming of which 90210 babe we were going to marry one day (Dylan and David obviously).

I have a tendency to do a lot of thinking and planning while I am supposed to be sleeping. I can't help it. It's dark and quiet and I'm left sifting through thoughts I've neglected to pay attention to all day. Fortunately for Holly, she gets her rest now and doesn't have to share a bedroom with me, but poor Sean on the other hand... has become my new "thoughts referee". Sometimes I make clear and concise decisions late at night and I can snuggle into my pillow satisfied that my neurotic habit has a purpose. And theeeeeen there are nights where Sean has to basically talk me off the ledge. Where my organic nature to worry and stress over controlling the details get the best of me. I toss and turn until he wakes up and knows I can't sleep without some kind of reassurance. He tickles my arm or runs his fingers through my hair and with his eyes still closed he says in his sleepy voice, "Amanda, it's fine. Everything will work out the way its supposed to. You're doing the right thing."

No matter how frustrated I get with my inability to shut my brain down for sleep, I truly believe my adult late-night pondering is reminiscent of my childhood late-night dreaming with my sister. Maybe sometimes I'm just so excited about what's happening or upcoming in my life, that I'm overwhelmed with images dancing in my head. This past week has been a prime example. I have been taking more risks within my business and reaching out to people who are heavyweights in the photography world, never imagining they would personally connect with me too. I'm asking the questions I've always wanted to ask and I'm suggesting new ways to approach growth on all levels. It's only January and I'm already so excited for 2010 to blossom. Here's to late-night dreaming and making it happen!

Holly and I in Stuffed-Toy-Ville so many years ago.