Ramifications

My sister and I were talking the other day about my car accident. She was asking how I was reacting to driving since she had the experience of getting nervous driving after her accident. "I'm fine," I thought. "No problem-o," I thought.

Granted, getting behind the wheel is no problem for me. In fact, since the accident I haven't even had a blip in the anxiety realm when getting in the car. Maybe it's because we were fine. Even in our relatively tiny car we were totally fine.

But since that conversation I have been realizing that it isn't that I was unaffected, but merely that I was affected differently.

When Kate was a baby I was pretty laid back. I wasn't the parent who would hold a mirror under her nose, or go check on her frequently, or whatever. I figured she'd be fine and if she wasn't going to be there was only so much I could humanly do to make any difference.

Lately though, I'm paranoid about everything. At the park I freak out if Daddy P lets her climb to high on her own, or isn't behind her at the steps. At home I'm a little freakishly nervous in the bathroom at bathtime. I was thinking about how my birthday present was supposed to be a bike carrier so we could go on family rides -- a thought I'd had many times before -- but this time I immediately decided there was absolutely NO WAY I was driving with her in the road in a bike carrier and cars around. I get nervous if she doesn't wake up crying at least once a night (because she has been doing that EVERY night for three months now).

This kid's going to be an anxious mess if I don't get past this freak-out about her mortality.

Judging from my parents' behavior, though, there is no getting past this freak-out about your child's mortality.