Tuesday, November 27, 2012

worry worry worry

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.

2 comments:

Melanie said...

I read it too. Agreed.

Treats said...

I would be embarrassed to admit how many times I have had my kids and hubby dead and buried, with their funeral planning started, etc. etc. Every time I holler down for my sweetie who works in the basement and he doesn't answer, I assume he is slumped over his keyboard. I check my kids FB and Twitter to make sure they are alive if I haven't heard from them. I should just quit telling you these things because it's not normal. It's neurotic.