Saturday, February 27, 2010

Can't Quit The Worrying Thing

I am a worrier. If I lose someone's address, I might spend hours fretting and looking for it. If I say something that hurts someone's feelings or I think I might have (and, I'm sorry to say, I have a big mouth), I can't sleep that night. if my son doesn't have a toaster or my daughter misplaces her class ring, my stomach starts hurting. The list goes on and one. This is not a good thing for someone who is a parent.

I've spend my entire parenting career worrying. From the time they took their first steps to the time they went to they first drove alone, I have worried and fussed and fretted over their lives. Now, that doesn't mean I am a control freak. I am not. They are very independent people, and they don't call me every five minutes. I don't know their every move, or their every step. They can figure out many things on their own. I don't think that it is healthy for children to be so overly dependent on their parents. They know they can call me when they need me. I want them to be survivors in this world; I hope they are learning to do that.

No, I worry alone. I stress all by myself. Probably not good for the heart and the skin and the mind and all sorts of other things. I can't just "let it be" and sleep at night and let it go. Wish I could. Just can't.

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