I feel stuck on the edge of this statement. I want desperately to only see the beauty when I look around and yet I can remember in great detail some awfully scary things that I’ve witnessed in this world. Now that I have children I don’t spend my free time imagining them winning spelling bees and learning to ride bikes. I’m too busy worrying. About everything, mostly irrational. Head injuries, hurt feelings, West Nile Virus, bad drivers, poor nutrition, bullying, cancer, constipation, and self-esteem to name a few. Not only that, I have become mistrustful of strangers. I’m too wrapped up in never letting my kids out of sight to remember that in this moment we are all fine. We are all healthy, we have food, we have clothing, we have each other. We have each other. We have each other.
I’m pretty sure that I wasn’t like this before having kids. I was always a little bit suspicious perhaps. I always locked my car door and shielded the keypad before entering my pin number. I wore practical footwear in case I needed to outrun a pursuer and I never put all my eggs in one basket. I was possibly always a little bit anxious. Did I turn the oven off? Did I get accepted into college? Did I make the car payment? I was always Type A.
However this post-pregnant world that I find myself in is a whole new one. All of my previous worries have been magnified and I’m terrified that they’re rubbing off on my children. Things that never used to worry me at all have now joined the list. Is this what parenting is? Did having kids turn me into a basket case? Do we view things as more dangerous than they actually are after we reproduce? I want to Be Here Now wearing my rose colored glasses and absorbing all the joys of my perfect life. But that isn’t what seems to be happening. Instead I see danger in everything and Worry is my middle name. No one ever said that watching my kids grow up would be so much harder than growing up myself.