Fact: I am a worrywart and a scaredy-cat.
A lot of things freak me out. I’m easily startled by strange noises and sudden movements. I jump like a cat when someone sneaks up on me. I worry all the time about a lot of things, and I’m a worst-case scenario thinker.
You’d never think this about me because I’m generally a cheerful person, but it’s true. I spend 50% of my day lost inside my own head. If it sounds like I’m kinda crazy, that’s okay. I think the best people are all a little bit nutty anyway.
My greatest physical fear is most definitely frogs, and I’ve said this several times before (like here, here and here.) I’m also scared of the idea of ghosts and I never want to see, feel, hear or smell one, ever. Same goes for demons, and stuff or people possessed by them.
Just as I typed that, my mom’s phone rang and I literally jumped. See what I mean? I really am a scaredy cat. It doesn’t help that her alert is The Count’s laugh with matching thunder in the background.
More than these seemingly silly fears, I also worry about bigger, more serious, meaning of life things. I worry about MrC during his daily commute to and from the office.
I think about Little MrC while he’s in school, whether or not he had enough time to finish his lunch, and if his immune system is strong enough to battle the germs and viruses that live on campus.
I think about myself and my own health, wonder if I am getting enough sleep, and scold myself over my lack of daily exercise. I worry about oncoming and overtaking cars while driving. I am scared that my gas oven might explode when I light it.
I guess it really is a mom’s nature to worry, and my own personal nature to have these fears.
Oh, I could go on and on with these things but I know that I shouldn’t. Worrying, fretting and fearing wastes a lot of time. At the same time, I know that every once in a while it’s important to think about them and acknowledge these fears.
I believe that, as long as they don’t paralyze you, fears will keep you on your toes, careful and cautious with every step. Then again, I could just be fooling myself. A result of watching too much Divergent.
I only hope that I don’t pass my own fears on to my son. There was a point where it looked like I would. I’d see him panic at the sight of lizards. I’d hear him run across the hall to our room at night because he didn’t want to be alone in the dark.
Then he did something that made me feel like he’ll be okay, and that I’m not such a bad role model after all.
The other night, it was rainy when we drove home after dinner. We all got out of the car and I went straight for the front door, which was locked.
I tried digging through my bag for my keys but MrC stopped me and walked quickly to the door to unlock it himself, which was unusual. The entire time, the kiddo quietly stood behind me, which was unusual. Of course I’m only realizing these strange things now!
The husbandry finally unlocked the door and I took a step towards it. Then of course a little frog just had to cross my path! It was really small, only about the size of my big toe, and dark. I thought it was a bug. Then I realized it was hopping and the freak out ensued.
When we were safely inside, the kiddo told me that he had seen the frog right away but chose not to say anything because he didn’t want me to get scared.
The following day, he checked around the car before I got out to make sure that Froggy Friend wasn’t back to get me. He unlocked the house for me, closed the gate, and brought his own stuff inside.
I went straight in because I could hear a chorus of frogs croaking all around us. Oh the joys of being surrounded by empty lots in the rain.
All of a sudden my son is braver than I am. All of a sudden I see more of that big boy and less of the baby that used to live in his skin. I know that he has his own set of fears, too, but I see that he is learning to face them.
I suppose I should take a cue from my little one and learn to be braver in the face of all my fears, too. I guess it would do me good to lighten up and step outside of my head more often.
It’s times like these that make me think that I learn more from my son than he does from me. More than anything it makes me feel happy and proud to know that I’ve somehow done something right with that little guy.
Still, I dread the day when he will come home and say, “Mom, I need to bring a frog to school for Biology class.” Oh, kamote.
What are your worries and fears, and how do you handle them?