Maybe it is partly due to the pregnancy hormones, but I keep having
moments of panic these days. Not just worry, but blind panic. And accompanying that panic are nightmares.
Some
of the panicked moments are understandable enough: Am I videoing Alexa
enough? Will I forget the cute things she does? Am I seeing enough of my
friends, or am I falling down a mummy-hole (definite mummy-hole - if I haven't seen you in more than a month, call me)? How can we make more time
for our families? Is Alexa seeing her cousins enough? Am I strict enough? I am too strict? Will she turn out to be a good person? How will she react to baby #2? I know that I'll have enough love for two kids, but will I have enough time and attention? Am I taking advantage of my friends when I ask them to babysit?
And then, there are the unreasonable panics, which are likely fueled by my book choices. I have read some pretty grim books lately. I just finished reading World War Z right now and recently finished A Piece of Cake, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep and Robopocalypse. These unreasonable panics include:
How will I protect Alexa if there's an intruder in our house? How will
I get to her if she gets kidnapped? How will I protect Alexa from
getting hurt (emotionally or physically)? What will I do if Jevon gets in a car
accident? What will I do if Jevon's plane crashes when he's traveling? How will we survive when the zombie apocalypse/ robopocalypse/ plague pandemic/ meteor crash/ global warming crisis happens?
I think the solution to all of these worries is poutine and ice cream. And the solution to poutine and ice cream is Tums. I've got the world figured out.
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