“Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow, it only saps today of its joy.”
~Leo Buscaglia
I’ve never been a worrier. Loved ones have traveled to faraway places, friends have been involved in dangerous sports, my husband has climbed mountains and rafted down treacherous rivers, and I haven’t worried. Now my daughters go for a bike ride with their dad and I sigh with relief when they return.
What is that?
This morning I woke up feeling tired. I always know I’m overtired when I can cry at the drop of a hat. Show me a Tim Horton’s commercial when I haven’t had enough sleep and my cheeks will be wet in thirty seconds.
At any rate, I was planning to go to a drum workshop and Big Daddy-O was in charge of the girls. From the moment I found out he was planning to take them swimming, I started to worry. How could he manage two little non-swimmers by himself? Fig had only been to the pool a handful of times. We’d always taken the girls together. What was he thinking? One daughter could easily sink while he was keeping the other afloat. It was too dangerous.
I voiced my concerns, was reassured by my husband, then I kissed my daughters goodbye and jumped in the shower because I felt tears starting to sting my eyes. I felt silly. My husband used to be a lifeguard, my daughters would be wearing floatation devices; my feelings were completely irrational, but they existed nonetheless.
Is it normal to worry about your kids? Of course it is, but it’s unproductive, and terribly uncomfortable. I don’t feel like myself when I’m having thoughts of my daughters drowning at the local pool. It’s dark and disturbing. I don’t want to put that energy out into the universe, and I certainly don’t want it to impact the experiences my daughters enjoy in life. The way I see it, it’s my problem, and I just have to deal with it. I have to be stronger than the worry. Any suggestions?
I remember my wonderful obstetrician, Dr. H, talking to me during my last visit before Pip was born. He asked me if I had any questions or concerns, and I told him that I was just worried about the baby. I was worried about something going wrong.
He said, “Karen, it’s natural to worry. And once your baby is safely in your arms, you’ll begin a lifetime of worrying about her.” He was right.
This is a very common theme amongst some of my local mommy friends. It seems we all feel that no one, not even and equally loving and doting father can care for our babies as well as we can. I recently received some of the most valuable sage advice I have ever received as a mama. I had a friend over for tea, and my sweet girlie kept running up and down the hallway from her bedroom into our living room. Each time she was narrowly missing a massive log bean that had she run into it, would have certainly brought on a great deal of pain and blood. On about the 15th time I hollered at Miss. B to stop running and to please use her walking feet, my girlfriend looked at me and smiled. I took that as a cue that I should apologize for interrupting our conversation. When I excused myself, my dear friend shook her head at me and said, ” Tiff, I love you enough to tell you that you are cheating her and yourself.” I had no idea what my friend had meant. It is my job to protect my child. To help her avoid, avoidable injury and accidents. Finally my gf said ” Look at Miss.B’s face every time she runs down that hall towards you. Look at that smile. Notice the jot and light in her eyes. For the eighty times she gets to feel elated and the 80 times you get to witness the authentic joy in her eyes… isn’t it worth it to let her risk running into that log beam once or twice if the payoff for all the other times is so beautiful.
I replay that conversation in my head every day. I am a better mama for it. And it also makes me walk my talk, because I know deep down that my children are only ever left with people just as capable of keeping them as safe as I would, and that it is merely that nagging ego that wants me to be the bestest, most equipped super hero on the planet that is meant to Save The DaAAY! ( as spoken in super hero song)
Anyway- I feel you sister… it is a tough road letting go and gifting others with the privilege of loving and keeping our beloved little ones.
xo love ya.