I worry constantly.
It is not unheard of for me to wake up at two in the morning to see if my kid is still breathing - the ten year old.
The eighth grader walks four blocks to church by himself - but I have him text me when he gets there. I read the labels on the children's Motrin, not once, not twice, but three times to make sure I don't OD the two year old. And when I come home to a quiet house, I run downstairs to make sure that Rico hasn't fallen victim to sudden illness or ax wielding maniac.
I let my kids stretch their wings, experience life, do the things that all kids should do, but I am always worried about it.
So when I read this article on one of my favorite sites Free Range Kids, it broke my heart. I will keep doing my best, but in the end, all I can really do is love them.