Small victories.

I don't think that being cautious with your children is irrational, but I know some of the scenarios that run through my mind don't have a high probability of actually happening in real life.  Yet for some reason, my mind is always dreaming up terrible, really horrible things that could happen to my children.  

I used to think I was alone in this and I was wary in bringing it up to other Moms.  One day I mustered up the nerve and the Mom I was talking with looked at me with widening eyes.   She seemed almost relieved to be able to tell me that she has planned an escape route over and over in her mind for the possibility of a knife-wielding psycho ever coming into her home.  She said the first thing she would do is heave the coffee table through the picture window and throw her kids out the gaping hole onto the front lawn before following them and running to safety.  She then laughed a little and I didn't have to ask why: the likelihood of this situation ever occurring is so very slim.  But I got it immediately, since I imagine similar things all the time.  We were both so relieved to talk with someone else who understood.

But not all fears are elaborate, most are far more everyday and thus far more possible.  For instance, there has not been a single time since I've had kids that I haven't been nervous walking with them in a parking lot, whether I was holding them, holding their hand, or pushing them in a stroller or shopping cart.  I am always fearful of someone driving around a corner and hitting the cart, or hitting me, or running them over.  

And although I've never had a problem, not even a close call, the fear persists.  I mean, it's a good thing really, because I'll never let my guard down in a parking lot, right?  And my kids will be experts at looking both ways and being cautious around all cars, even parked cars.

Now if only I could stop all the other unmentionable, horrific things my mind likes to ponder.  Perhaps my mind goes to these awful places to show me the things that would be potentially beyond my control, things I wouldn't be able to stop from happening.  Perhaps my mind works in this way to better highlight the things I can control, things like being aware of my surroundings in a parking lot.  


My overactive imagination is honing my maternal protective instincts: because I know I may never have to toss my coffee table through my window, I savour the small victories and when I navigate an ordinary hazard, I feel like I've conquered one of my nightmares.