Fear

Yesterday, one of my worst fears was realized, only it wasn't by me but by another local mother. I do not know the mother personally, to be honest I don't even know her name, all I know is that she lived my worst nightmare and my heart broke into a million pieces for her and her loss.

At 2:30 yesterday, a soccer goal post fell on a little boy during recess and only hours later he was pronounced dead. This poor family woke up, most likely like any other day, got dressed and left for school and then the most tragic thing happened and this sweet child never came home again.

I have always had an intense fear of death and dying. Not necessarily my own death but losing those around me. When Jonathon leaves in the morning with Ava to take her to preschool I hold my breath and say a prayer that they return home to me safely. When I am not with Holden or even in the same room as him I worry that a freak accident will happen and something terrible will come to fruition. I check on my children at least 2 times a night (more with Holden because he actually still wakes up even more than twice) just to make sure they are okay. Is this a healthy way to live? Of course not. And while I would love to have every blog entry end with a "self-help, no-fail, solution" like the end to every episode of Full House or Saved by the Bell, I am afraid my desire to be more transparent as a "real" parent and person will leave this one unresolved.

I fear the worst and pray for the best but sometimes the fear is crippling and when tragedy strikes, like it did yesterday, it becomes heavily intensified. Because, even though it most likely won't happen and everyone will grow up healthy and happy and live long productive lives I can't help but worry because the reality is -- it does happen.

I don't think I can make my fears go away, the only thing I can really do is embrace every moment that I have with my family and work to live without regret -- a tall order I know. When Jonathon does something that irritates me, instead of snapping at him, I hold my impulsize tongue and think "would this be worth saying if this was the last thing I had the chance to tell him?" -- most of the time the answer is a big "NO!" except of course when he crunches his pretzels too loudly or shakes his Sprees in his hand over and over and over again before he tosses each, single, solitary little circle piece into his mouth --- those things just have to be brought to light.

And when Ava makes a giant pile of everything she can possibly pull out of her room in order to make her own home in the living room I try to just enjoy watching her create and be the little girl I love instead of feel frustration that the just cleaned room is now in a state of chaos. This is difficult at times because, since I don't want to say anything I might regret I also don't do a great job of disciplining. This means the "you can get it out as long as you put it away" rule almost always ends in "okay, well, if you just read a book to your brother I will clean it up."

Then there is Holden's sleep pattern or lack there of. I could easily be frustrated with the fact that I haven't slept for more than 5 straight hours in over a year and that it is actually more like every 3 hours... but I love and appreciate every extra hug and cuddle I get.. even into those wee hours of the night. Now, don't get me wrong, a few inappropriate words have been said and a tantrum or two have been thrown on my walk to his room at 2am but I have never left his bedside wishing I hadn't spent those few extra minutes with him.

I wish my fears were limited to the ones I had when I was 6. I wish my biggest concern was a monster in my closet or a scary creature that had taken up residence under my bed. Unfortunately I still have the big imagination I did when I was that age but now it is now filled with all the worst case scenarios of a much bigger, scary world with greater consequences than an eaten dolly.

My heart will continue to ache for the mother of the young boy that passed away yesterday. I can only thank God that Ava came home from school yesterday. That Jonathon made it home safely from work and that Holden only got a bruise or two instead of something worse when he fell from the second story of Barbie's mansion.

I plan to keep this post the last of the "less than light-hearted" but this was weighing heavy on my heart today so I decided to put it in my new shiny diary (blog).