I am a mother. I am wired to worry. I do it well. I don’t even really need much of a reason to worry. I don’t worry about the “silly” things anymore, like “that candy fell on the floor DON’T let her eat it!”. I don’t freak out anymore when I see one of the kids fall on the street and slide their knee across the asphalt. I also don’t even worry about the 103.5 temperature in the middle of the night. We have been there so many times I know that with a little Motrin they will feel better in the morning.
I DO worry about all the other things. The things that have the potential of carrying into adulthood, like an aversion to ALL vegetables and only wanting to eat refried beans for breakfast. I mean, I am sure you can survive on refried beans, but it just doesn’t seem right.
I have worried about the clingy stage that my three year old has started the past few weeks. She has always been my little social butterfly and now she has a hard time leaving my side. I have thought of every possible trauma that could have happened in my absence to cause this until I remember it is all my fault. I had a baby. She isn’t the baby anymore and she is confused.
I have worried about my son’s inability to listen to three simple tasks and follow through on them. “Lincoln, please go get your socks (task one), your shoes (task two), and put them on (task three)”. Ten minutes later when we are ready to go I go looking for him and find him lining up his dinosaurs on his bed.
“Lincoln! What are you doing? You were supposed to get your shoes!”
“I DID get them. They are on the table.”
Okay. One out of three isn’t bad, is it?
I worry about it and then I remember that this is the same boy that can work his way through the entire Nintendo game Zelda: Twilight Princess using a hint book when HE CAN’T EVEN READ! The flame is definitely burning bright in his little mind…he just wants to conserve it for important things.
When I get too worked up worrying about this and that I remind myself how worried I was about my oldest, Luca, about a year and a half ago. She had major separation anxiety and she nearly froze if she thought people were watching her.
Here is a picture of preschool graduation:
Her teacher was lining them up so they could participate in the program. You can’t see it, but her face is covered in tears and snot and she is sobbing. This is the only picture we have of preschool graduation because Brett took her to the car to talk to her. She was so scared she was going to have to go back and sing she wet her gown. She hadn’t done that since she was potty trained when she was two years old. Brett had to run her home to change her and they got back just as it ended.
This is kindergarten graduation:
We were thrilled! She stayed on the stage the entire time and even sang the songs! She did stay hidden under her graduation cap most of the time, but she participated!
Here is her first grade Christmas program just a few months later:
Is that a smile?!! Talk about a change. Not only is she on the front row…she sang every song, did every action, and wore a smile on her face for most of the performance. No worries left here about her fear of people looking at her.
It is a good reminder to me to take a step back when I get anxiety about a “stage” one of my kids is going through. A lot of the time they outgrow it and it is fun to look back at the progress and growth that they make.
Remind me of this the next time I hear a voice scream/cry, “Anna is looking at me!!!”