Tuesday, May 8, 2007

Psycho Mom

So I have this really bad habit of picturing my children dead, or at least dismembered or maimed in some horribly atrocious way. I don’t know if it’s normal, I may be in need of medication, but I’d like to think it’s just a mom thing. It’s not like I really think they’re going to die, I don’t obsess about it or put them in a padded room or send them outside in a bubble or anything I’ll just get these little flashes of horror that last a split second and then they’re over.

For example, every time there’s a storm I inevitably envision my son’s room being either a) struck by lightning and catching fire and I’m unable to get to him, b) ripped entirely off the house by a twister or c) flooded (and it’s always just his room, not the rest of the house). If he’s in the backyard playing and I leave him unattended I often think of the following scenarios; a) he’s fallen and a stick has gouged his eye out, b) he’s in the garage guzzling antifreeze, c) he’s fallen off the swing set and broken his neck.

I find that I obsess a little less about my 5 month old, probably because I feel she can’t really injure herself that much yet, and the kid is downright clingy and is always by my side. However, I put her in the swing outside yesterday (one of those baby swings that hang on the swing set) and she proceeded to suck on the safety strap. At first I found this really cute then realized that those straps have been exposed to the elements for over 2 years and are probably chock full of parasites or bacteria of some deadly kind. So I spent a good 10 seconds convinced that she was going to get malaria before I went and got one of her toys for her to chew on. The irony is that her teether toy probably had more bacteria on it than the strap.

All in all it gives me a sense of being a better parent. I mean look at all the things that could have happened to my children and yet has not. Must be doing something right huh? Or perhaps my luck has finally run out and today will be the day that Aaron somehow simultaneously stabs himself with a steak knife and burns himself on the stove, scarring him for life, if not killing him altogether. Maybe I should call home and check.

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