Dora and I and Ellie as a 10-year-old are in a house and I look out the open door and see some boats in a river and say, "Look at the parade." Behind the five or so boats are people jogging on the water. I am amazed. How can they walk on water? We go out and look. It's those new shoes with special soles, made to resist the water surface so they don't sink. Dora wants a closer look, so she goes into the river and walks in the same spot and we laugh because it is clear that the river there is so shallow it appears she is walking on the surface. As she walks, she gets deeper and deeper and now she is swimming (she is pregnant). Now Ellie decides to join her and jumps in the deep part and swims around. I get very upset because it is a steep embankment and the water is deep and I couldn't go save her if she got in trouble. I insist she come out now. "Ellie, come out right now." "No, mommy, I want to swim." "Ellie, please come out; I am afraid." "I'm OK, mommy" She stays in and I escalate to screaming my orders in fear. She refuses and gets out and dives back in several different times while I explain in a screaming, tearful, fearful voice how dangerous it is, and if she had trouble, I couldn't go save her and she'd drown, or worse. I realize with some guilt I would have to throw myself in and try to save her and drown with her. Finally she gets out and says, "But in the Babar book, it said you have to try new things." I am upset that she got this idea out of a children's book. I explain how you need to take risks, but only after you have thought them out and know if they are safe enough risks. You could get killed just jumping in and trying something without thinking it through. She is not convinced. Later, I look at a file from my classes and see notes from a teacher about a series of my dreams or poems. I feel overwhelmed by the fact that this is just one long list of things I could do out of many.