I'm Afraid Of Dying. And Cockroaches.

I love blogging, partly because writing and posting - and vlogging - makes me think.  It makes me reflect on things that I might otherwise blithly smile and nod at before moving on.  This week, Lee Reyes-Fournier from Couple Dumb has a great question for our #VlogMom prompt.


Name your three fears...

And so I did.  It took a lot of reflection, because I'm generally not a fearful person - the creaking noises I head downstairs as I was changing for bed last Friday when my husband wasn't home at 11:30pm the exception that proves the rule, of course.

My fears?  They're pretty irrational.  But thinking more about it, isn't that what fears are?  So take a look, and then tell me what you're afraid of!

Oh, and excuse the way I look this time?  I haven't slept well all week (yay headaches that won't go away).

It Could Have Been Us

It's been a week full of bad news around here. Everyone everywhere has heard about Jerry Sandusky and the Penn State scandal, and that's been covered beyond belief, so I won't belabor it here. Then news came out that a teacher was arrested and accused of fondling himself in front of students and had been doing so for ten years prior to this. And then came the news that a daycare worker was convicted of killing a sixteen month old boy by throwing him to the ground while at work.

There but for the grace of God....

Mister Man is in a private school. He's in a Catholic school that I visited and reviewed before enrolling him. I talked to other parents about lots of questions I had in the effort to make sure it was the best place for him. And we're happy there. I can only imagine that the parents at that Christian school were happy with their choice prior to last Friday, too. How do you see something like that coming? I feel for the families there, and I can't imagine how they're reacting.

The daycare incident, however, hits even closer to home. Before Mister Man was born, I knew we'd need daycare coverage once I went back to work. I looked around at a lot of options. I called and researched many centers, ruling several out before even setting foot inside them. I visited four centers to meet the staff and see how the centers operated. The one I chose was the one that made me feel the most secure. To get into or out of the facility, you had to scan your fingerprint. The reception desk was in sight of all the infant rooms and one of the toddler rooms, and everyone had to walk past the reception desk to leave the building. The staff was sweet, and they were accommodating when I expressed some desires that were outside the norm. I wanted to send my own baby food when he was old enough (homemade), and I didn't want him to use an Exersaucer - I'd rather he play on the ground. They assured me that I wasn't the only parent who did things that way, and they were fine with it. I felt comfortable there, and I was confident that he'd be loved.

We had a great experience there, too. He enjoyed going, and the staff was great. We moved when he was two, however, which meant we went to a different daycare center. That first daycare center, however? That's where the daycare worker was convicted of killing a toddler, in a classroom I'm sure Mister Man spent time. She's twenty-five now, which means she was too young to have been working there when Mister Man attended, but how do you know?

How easily could it have been Mister Man either there or at another center? Or at his preschool? Or at his current school? Or you hear about the children who get lost on field trips. Or are hit by cars when playing outside. Or are kidnapped or abused by strangers or those close to them. The sheer number of possible disasters is staggering, and it's hard for me to even sit at my computer and categorize them.

At some point, I need to take a deep breath. I need to decide if I trust that I've done my very best and need to hope for the best or whether I'm going to spend my days hovering and worrying and prepared constantly for that phone call. For the sake of my sanity, I've chosen the former. I have to. This last week has truly shaken my faith, however.

How do you deal with all the potential disasters out there?

Win a Big G prize pack with Justice League comics, cereal, and a Green Lantern action figure

Monsters Aren't Real

I was putting both the wee ones to bed last night because my husband wasn't home from work quite yet. They'd both had showers, pjs were on, and teeth were brushed. I'd finished the book, and it was just about time to turn out the lights. Little Miss was snug in my arms, but she wanted down to give Mister Man a hug and kiss goodnight.

After the hugging and kissing finished, Mister Man told me to look in his closet. I turned around and put my hand on the small brass knob, throwing a fake frightened look over my shoulder. He giggled with delight. I creaked open the closet a smidgen of an inch, then gasped and shut it. Mister Man was rocking back and forth on his Thomas sheets roaring with laughter.

I repeated myself, opening the door just a tiny pinch further before shutting it quickly and turning my back to it. It was about then that I noticed the hysterical screaming.

Oops.

I gathered Little Miss back into my arms, shushing and rocking to try to calm her. I asked her why she was crying, only to discover that my pretending there were monsters in the closet had truly frightened her out of her wits. I calmly explained that I was merely pretending and that there was nothing in the closet. I took a step towards the closet to demonstrate.

A wildcat erupted in my arms as she flailed and clawed and tried to climb onto my head and down my back to get away, screaming in panic all the while. I reassured her that it was fine and that I was going to show her that there was nothing in the closet. Mister Man piped up that yes, there was too something in the closet. I shot him a look intended to get him to pipe down, and he looked crushed.

As I reached the closet, I realized that I had no way of holding onto the she-demon in my arms and opening the closet at the same time. However, were I to set her on the ground, she quite possibly might break the sound barrier exiting the room. This is where creativity really pays off. I managed to slide my toe under the closet door and exert enough pressure to open the door.

As the creature howled before darting out of the closet, my eardrum was pierced from the screams of panic from Little Miss.

See, I told you there was something in there! crowed Mister Man.

I quickly began pointing out to Little Miss that the creature was just Roar (one of our cats) who'd somehow gotten trapped inside Mister Man's closet and that it wasn't a monster and monsters don't exist and see Mommy always takes care of you and really it's ok, while mentally cataloguing how soon I needed to go to bed to make up for the lack of sleep I'd soon get due to Little Miss's nightmares.

Luckily, my soothing bedside manner is more effective than I thought, and she awoke this morning with no nightmares and no apparent ill-effects.

This morning, my mom was watching the wee ones who are off school, lucky devils, while I worked and conducted conference calls.

At the end of one conference call, I heard the oh-too-familiar hysterical screaming and then the whining, panting cries for Moommmmyyyyy. I hurried downstairs only to hear my mom whispering to her, it's ok; it was just pretend. You don't need Mommy. It's ok; we'll just pretend that didn't happen.

Yep, my mom also managed to scare the patootie out of Little Miss by turning off all the lights, handing the wee ones mini-flashlights, putting them in the toy house we have down there and then making our toy ride-on lion poke his head into said house and roar. Loudly.

Way to go, Mom. errr moms?

Ten Things I Hate About Me

I went back and took a look at the post I wrote briefly on Saturday night about the NPR piece on the bailout. And then I read Irene's post on coming to terms with having a special needs child. And it got me to thinking. I'm a little freaked out.

And I'm kind of a lot freaked out about a bunch of things. However, talking about them seems to make them just a little bit smaller. And a little bit more manageable. So here come my biggest fears. Ready?

1) I know that I'm going to die in a car crash. I know it will be someone t-boning me at an intersection. I just don't know what intersection or when. And every time I go through an intersection, I look both ways to make sure no one's coming. You can't imagine the relief I felt a year ago when I was driving home late at night and saw a car flying through the red light perpendicular to me. I was twenty feet from the intersection.

2) Mister Man has made so many strides in the past two years. In the past four years. The day a friend was over with her daughter and for the first time he asked someone if they wanted to play a game with him, I almost cried. And as he's getting older, the social interactions are getting harder and more complex. And the stakes are getting higher. And I'm so afraid that he isn't going to figure out how to navigate those treacherous waters.

3) And then there's Little Miss. She'll have no problems whatsoever socially. She's always had everyone wrapped around her little finger. Everyone loves her. And she's the most stubborn little cuss I've ever met. She's a handful now, and I'm so afraid of what she's going to do as a teenager just to prove someone wrong. What stupid choice will she make that will forever alter her life or someone else's life that, just like Humpty Dumpty, can never be put together again?

4) I dodged a bullet this week. My dad found a lump. It had to be biopsied, and the doctor wasn't encouraging. Thank God, it turned out benign, but it really made me think. My parents are older, and their health isn't great. I miss my grandparents so much, and my parents are so close to my kids. I couldn't bear losing them, and I fear that the day is coming sooner than when I'll be ready. And I know I'll never be ready. But the thought of my parents not at a graduation or a wedding or a birth or even just a birthday, the mere thought terrifies me.

5) The genes in my family and my husband's family aren't the greatest. We've both been blessed, but there are so many in both our families who have problems with alcohol and depression. They're only three and four, but we've already started talking to them about what's ok and what's not and how sometimes things and moods work differently for different people. I hope against hope that if I prep them now, I can help save them from a miserable future tomorrow.

6) Financially, my family is ok. Right now, anyway, and as a teacher, he's got more security than most. I work in the financial industry (not as secure obviously), and I see how bad it is for so many people. And I talk to people around where I live who are cutting back and struggling and changing what they do and how they do it. This isn't good. It's getting worse. And I'm afraid of how bad it will get and what people will do to cope.

7) Society is changing, and it isn't changing for the better in my opinion. People are ruder, they seem to care less about others, and morals seem to be disappearing. I look at how people acted when I was growing up, and I hear stories from friends of mine about how much worse it is now. By the time the wee ones are older, what will it be like? It's completely out of my control, and I don't want them to be the bad kids that follow the crowd, either.

8) When we went to the Fourth of July parade a year ago (not this past year), Mister Man wandered away from us when we said it was over and time to go home. We all started packing things up, and he just left. When we were in Minnesota at the Mall of America, a man was running around Legoland looking for his two year old daugher Natalie who had disappeared. The very thought of losing my child somewhere, somehow... it's devastating.

9) This one is a silly fear, but it's there nonetheless. What if no one likes me anymore? What if I say something that offends someone, and they tell someone who tells someone? And if I keep doing that, then what? I know I have friends, and plenty of them. But then I think of the women who "should" be my friends but we're casual acquaintances. What did I do that they don't like me? Yeah, I told you it was silly.

10) And my biggest fear of all? That one's easy. I so fear failure. As a child, things were easy for me. My mom and dad took great care of me, and school was a breeze. I had great friends, and my hobbies were fun and easy. It wasn't until I went to college that I experienced my first taste of failure. And when you don't learn about it until then, it's paralyzing. You'd rather not try than fail. And I recognize that and fight that, so I do get things done. On a regular basis, I sabotage myself so that if I do fail, it isn't my fault -- unconsciously, of course. The Pumpkin Fest next Thursday? I didn't "find time" to contact the grocery store to get our discounted pumpkins until last Thursday. That's two weeks to get them to agree, line up the pumpkins, and get everything in. It's all worked out (except the hay bales I'm still waiting on, but that's someone else's responsibility) luckily, but dummy, get your fanny in gear so you don't have to stress about it!

Reading over this, I sound like such a worrywort, a weak and whiny person. And I'm really not. I'm a very creative person. I'm strong, and I like to be in charge. These traits help me out all the time, but every plus has a minus. If you'll notice, with one significant exception, they're all worst case scenarios that I can't control.

So what are your biggest fears?