I am not a worrier in the way that most moms are. I let my kids suck on everything, crawl in dirt, and I don't tell them to be careful on the playground equipment (that's because Sy does a lot of worrying about that already). I don't worry that Sy can't say his name right yet because he can't pronounce S's (well, i'm getting ready to google that, but I'm not worried yet!) I'm not worried that Tal's tear duct is still clogged and she'll probably have to see the eye doctor. (Just concerned.)
But, I do have an active imagination that often gets me in trouble. And I have a very guilty conscience, so what I do worry about is that something tragic will befall my kids and I'll end up on Oprah while America judges me for not worrying enough to prevent such tragic-ness.
And so, when I decided to embrace Baby-Led Weaning, which reportedly is less likely to cause choking, but still sounds like a major choking hazard, I calmed my choking paranoia by calling Kettering Hospital and enrolling in their infant CPR/Choking class.
I went last night, and I'm not sure that my paranoia is relieved. Because, though I now know how to do chest compressions, clear airways and give breaths, I also had a whole evening of imagining the different horrible things that could happen. And I had to listen to the nurses say things like, "Continue this until the baby is unresponsive" and "It only takes a few minutes for them to pass out" and "It's okay if you break their ribs - keep going."
But, now if something horrible happens and Oprah calls, I'll be able to tell her that I took a class. Clearly, I need some more of that good ole' gospel sinking into my heart - you know the part about freedom from fear, there is now no condemnation - that sort of thing.
Another paranoia that grips me is people breaking in my house. I calm this one in all sorts of ways - primarily, by reminding myself that we live in the smallest house in our pretty-cheap neighborhood and we have a 1990 Ford Taurus in the driveway that is a pretty good indication of the goods that are inside. I've also stopped watching Law & Order because I just can't handle it anymore. I also have maintained an annoying-to-my-husband obsession with the baby monitors.
But, yesterday, there was an event that sent me spiraling into burglar paranoia. I heard the screen door open, and I assumed it was the mailman dropping something off. So, when I got a second (an hour later), I went to see what it was. There was nothing there, EXCEPT Ben's keys in the door, which he had apparently left the night before.
"Clearly", what happened was that someone took the keys, made copies, and then replaced them so we wouldn't know what they had done. Maybe that's a bit far-fetched, but if something DID happen, and Oprah calls, I need to be able to tell her I did something about it.
So, Bad Guys, if you're reading this - listen up! All locks have been changed. The kind people at Home Depot helped me get some new anti-bump locks and my hero of a husband installed them all at 10 o'clock last night.
I guess that means if you're a friend with a key - see us for a new one! And by the way, did we give one of you our garage door opener or did a Bad Guy get that too?
And Oprah, sometimes accidents happen, and I'm doing the best I can over here.
And Galatians, clearly you and I need to spend some more time together.