Who else worries needlessly, all the time, about everything under the sun?
I have been a ball of nerves since childhood. I spend most of my time thinking, worrying, and obsessing about things that may (or may not) ever happen. I know I’ve talked about my anxiety before, and while I TRY not to let it run my life… sometimes, it kind of does.
Remember how I got sick on my vacation, and also the week before at work? Nope, STILL not pregnant, friends… some unknown medical condition that just cropped up randomly, but I suspect that perhaps might be related to my stress and anxiety. You know how these things like to manifest themselves physically sometimes? Yeah, lots of fun when the mental turns physical.
Having a child and ALSO having anxiety is not always the most enjoyable of combinations. Becoming a parent adds a whole new list of things to worry about and think about, namely the future. Ya know, the one thing you can’t control (so why bother worrying, right? Try telling THAT to my brain).
Lately, I’ve found myself worrying a lot about my baby as a teen, and then a young man, and then an old man and so on.
So quickly he went from baby to toddler. As quick as he will go from toddler to boy, from boy to pre-teen, from pre-teen to teen, and eventually teen to adult. I will blink, and he will be grown just like I blinked and he was no longer a baby but a walking, dancing, funny tot.
Already I worry about his school days. I wonder if he will be quiet like his mother and father. I wonder if he will be bullied because of it. I worry he won’t make friends. I think about him sitting at a desk, not making a peep, while the kids around him chatter on and on. I think about this young boy, though I can’t quite envision what he will look like just yet (will he wear glasses?). I wonder if the light and laughter he displays so freely now will be zapped from him by other kids.
I worry about his teenage years. I wonder if he will get into the wrong crowd. I wonder if he will find himself in trouble. I worry he will discover alcohol or drugs or… the list goes on and on. I worry that my funny baby who blows kisses might not always be so sweet.
I worry about his young adult years. I wonder if he will be successful. I wonder if he will be happy. I worry about him not finding love, or a job, or his own house. I hope he doesn’t live in our basement!
None of these are things I have any control or say over. All you can do is teach your kids to be good and to do good; they decide from there.
I have hopes and dreams for who he will be and how he will be, but I realize it isn’t up to me, that eventually… it will all be up to him. There are things I can cling tight to but there are also things I need to let go of. Our kids will grow wings and we need to let them fly. We need to let them grow into who they will be without our interference and merely our guidance. We need to let them make their mistakes, and we need to tell them it’s okay when they do. We need to cheer for their victories, and we need to realize sometimes they will lose. We need to let them fail, like we need to let them fly. I cannot tell him who to be or what to do, I can only be hopeful for what he will choose. I can only hope that the lessons I teach him will lead him to good choices.
I think that all I can really do now is hold my breath and freefall into the future.