Today is the last day and The Middle One has an after school party at his teacher’s house. They look forward to this all year and last night I had a moment where I thought I was going to email the group and tell them my kid was out.
The weather forecast. How lame is that?
There used to be a time I didn’t even pay attention to the weather. Blame it on my having one too many birthdays “snowed out” as a kid, but I refused to succumb to snow or rain or too-brigh sky warnings. I figured all weather people were Sky Is Falling Over Reactors and I rolled my eyes and turned up my nose at everyone with a panic plan.
Somewhere along the way, I got paranoid. I’m not sure I can even blame it on The Storm, but that sure didn’t help. I actually think it comes from just having kids, this heightened need to control everyone’s safety as much as possible. It certainly isn’t helped by the tragedy in Oklahoma a few weeks ago. All I could think for weeks was about those parents who had to go to school to find (or not) their babies. I can’t even.
So, when I decided last night to stop ignoring the forecasts and check into the predictions, I didn’t like what I saw. What if I send my son and he’s in someone else’s car when a flash flood or tornado hits? What if he’s outside when a freakish wind kicks up and a tree falls? What if I can’t protect him no matter where he is? What if sending him is tempting some weather god and asking for trouble?
See what I mean? Stone-cold crazy.
In the end. I decided to channel my old self and ask whom I wanted to raise- someone who was prepared and cautious but lived their life out loud, or someone who lets fear trap them inside away from the life they should enjoy? They learn from us. They model our behavior. We teach what to be afraid of and generally how to be on this earth-fair weather or not.
I can’t teach people to be afraid. I won’t.
So, I’ll stifle my anxiety and let my boy go to his party. I’ll trust he’ll be safe with people I know care about him nearly as much as I. Then I’ll hope, as always with parenting, that I’ve made the right decision and welcome him safely home.
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