Fear

I guess I really suck at blogging.  I swear, I have thoughts all the time that go something like Hmm, I should blog about that.  But then Mason throws a ball at my face, and I forget as my life flashes before my eyes.

Speaking of ball, have you hear that my child is a progeny when it comes to athletics?  Truly, the child is gifted.  Yes, I know I'm his mother, but seriously.  He is apparently left handed and chucks anything not nailed down at the wall, ceiling, closet parent, etc.  Don't ask me how this child got any athletic ability at all, especially considering I still shoot granny-style, but it happened and we're rolling with it.  I now know more about basketball than I ever wanted to know -- go on and ask me about a hook shot, buzzer beater, shot clock.  I know 'em all.  Because you better believe if my child wants to play sports he's gotta read about them too.

So, other than athleticism and genetics, another subject on my mind lately has been fear and how it changes from pre to post child life situations.  Now, I'm going full disclosure here and admit that I am sort of a frightened person generally.  I don't like scary movies, spiders, bats. .. I guess all the regular stuff?  Anyway, I used to be afraid of people, as in someone breaking in my house or just the average run-of-the-mill serial killer or gang member on the road.  Now, see, this is where motherhood comes in, because I am no longer afraid of anyone.  If I see someone and mentally decide this person could be dangerous, of course I would walk elsewhere or get to my car as fast as possible or other something else as equally as logical, but I truly can't think of anyone who's made me nervous since having Mason.  And, the idea that someone would ever break in my house?  It's laughable.  Not because I don't think it could ever happen -- of course it could happen -- but I think because I know I would rip their head off if they tried to hurt my child.

These days, I fear other things:  war, poverty, gas prices, college savings, cleaning fumes, viruses, pesticides, french fries.  You can see that I haven't lost my ability to worry, it has just transferred itself.  I worry more about the future.  I worry about peace in the world, and if my son will ever drive a car that uses gasoline.  I worry that he won't ever feel safe like I did when I was little.  I worry about siblings, tire pressure, emergency contacts, soft bellies, poop. It never ends

Honestly, it was probably easier worrying about serial killers and gang members, but it's not something I can control.  I think I'm just like every other parent who now worries about the world outside of himself.  Two quotes I have used lately to keep me sane:

Some of your hurts you have cured,
And the sharpest you still have survived,
But what torments of grief you endured
From the evil which never arrived.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

 and 

I am not afraid.  I was born to do this 
~ Joan of Arc


I'm embarrassed to admit that I really like the Joan of Arc quote.  I know it's a little dramatic, but it has helped me realize that even IF something bad is to happen, it is something I must deal with in order to move forward.