The Writing Mamas Daily Blog
Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.
And for that, you are a goddess.
Monday, January 07, 2008
Worrywart
I've always been a worrier, but lately, it has been worse. I saw my parents over the holiday and realized that they are getting old. My dad can barely hear in his right ear, and he had a troubling angiogram. I'm truly dreading the day-to-day aspects of my life when they get ill, and my throat tightens when I think what life will be like when they are gone.
I dread certain hours of my job teaching high school science. Most of my classes are great, but one of my physiology classes has so much energy, it explodes throughout the room, literally. One day, I thought it would be nice for them to build a clay model of the neuron. They thought it would be more fun to throw the clay on the ceiling.
When I meet with the parents of my problem high school students, I dread the day my own sweet seven- and nine-year olds fall into the abyss of adolescence. The teenager parents have a resigned look to their eyes, and often, as they promise me to talk with their child, again, their voice has a tremor of hopelessness. Even if my kids don't misbehave in class during high school, I know they will break away from me. I'm dreading the day my nine-year son stops coming by our bed in the morning for a good morning kiss.
Our house is another ticking time bomb. We have galvanized steel pipes that break into tiny rusty pieces, clogging our faucets, one by one. Our shower pipe broke apart this fall. I'm waiting for a major collapse, which will probably happen when we are out of town.
Despite my plumbing, and electrical anxiety, our family decided to drive down to San Diego this Christmas. As we barreled towards Highway 5, I prayed we would not encounter the infamous winter valley fog that occasionally leads to ninety-five car pile-ups. When I wasn't worried about accidents, our house, pets, or getting lost, I dreaded seeing my strange physiology class again.
We made it to Sea World, and my son, Walker, wanted to do the Atlantis Ride. The ride is a combination log flume and rollercoaster, with some real black and white dolphins and indecipherable dialogue thrown in. Our boat ascended up the metal rails. My heart was beating wildly. I lifted my arms so I could cuddle Walker. He scooted away. We reached the top, and it was too late to tuck my arms in, or even lift them up. I couldn't get into my usual amusement park cower. I faced the descent with chest out and my heart forward. The world slipped below me, and I felt like I was flying. We plunged, and I felt every moment of it. Then, the water engulfed our boat. I didn't care. I let out a whoop of delight.
I walked with my arms slightly outstretched the rest of the day. I felt renewed, like my old strength had come back. Terrifying things are going to happen to me, I know, but there is no point in dreading them. It is far better to meet them head-on as they arrive, and enjoy every moment in between.
By Beth Touchette-Laughlin
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I dread certain hours of my job teaching high school science. Most of my classes are great, but one of my physiology classes has so much energy, it explodes throughout the room, literally. One day, I thought it would be nice for them to build a clay model of the neuron. They thought it would be more fun to throw the clay on the ceiling.
When I meet with the parents of my problem high school students, I dread the day my own sweet seven- and nine-year olds fall into the abyss of adolescence. The teenager parents have a resigned look to their eyes, and often, as they promise me to talk with their child, again, their voice has a tremor of hopelessness. Even if my kids don't misbehave in class during high school, I know they will break away from me. I'm dreading the day my nine-year son stops coming by our bed in the morning for a good morning kiss.
Our house is another ticking time bomb. We have galvanized steel pipes that break into tiny rusty pieces, clogging our faucets, one by one. Our shower pipe broke apart this fall. I'm waiting for a major collapse, which will probably happen when we are out of town.
Despite my plumbing, and electrical anxiety, our family decided to drive down to San Diego this Christmas. As we barreled towards Highway 5, I prayed we would not encounter the infamous winter valley fog that occasionally leads to ninety-five car pile-ups. When I wasn't worried about accidents, our house, pets, or getting lost, I dreaded seeing my strange physiology class again.
We made it to Sea World, and my son, Walker, wanted to do the Atlantis Ride. The ride is a combination log flume and rollercoaster, with some real black and white dolphins and indecipherable dialogue thrown in. Our boat ascended up the metal rails. My heart was beating wildly. I lifted my arms so I could cuddle Walker. He scooted away. We reached the top, and it was too late to tuck my arms in, or even lift them up. I couldn't get into my usual amusement park cower. I faced the descent with chest out and my heart forward. The world slipped below me, and I felt like I was flying. We plunged, and I felt every moment of it. Then, the water engulfed our boat. I didn't care. I let out a whoop of delight.
I walked with my arms slightly outstretched the rest of the day. I felt renewed, like my old strength had come back. Terrifying things are going to happen to me, I know, but there is no point in dreading them. It is far better to meet them head-on as they arrive, and enjoy every moment in between.
By Beth Touchette-Laughlin
Labels: Beth Touchette-Laughlin
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