Monday, September 16, 2013

Scared for my boys

The world is a scary place. 

People would say that and I'd always think - it's always been scary, we just hear about it so much more now.  

I was wrong.  It is 100% more scary than it was when I was a kid.  I read several parenting blogs.  Most of them making fun of the craziness that is parenthood.  Sometimes I come across one that makes me tear up  (OK, I tear up a lot - I'm a crier). I read one the other day about a lady sending her child to school for the first time and him coming home talking about the drill they had if a scary person come into their school.  Hiding under desks, turning out the lights, being very quiet.  

Hell, I'm crying right now thinking about it.  It is terrifying to think about.  But it happened.  Drills and plans are necessary because it happened.  Some jackass with issues walked into a school and now the reality of every fresh faced innocent child going to school includes some sort of preparedness plan for what you do when a "bad person" comes into your school.  

Earlier today I was doing my online safety training at work.  Yes, I usually go through them as fast as possible and never click on the links.  Today, as I'm reading about what to do in the event of a armed assailant in my workplace I click on the link and am taken to a youtube video by Homeland Security showing what to do if an armed gunman is on the loose at your place of work.  I wanted to cry.  I wanted to sob.  I spent 8 of the last 10 years working 7p-7a in hospitals and making a joke that the doors are never closed there; it's just an invitation for someone to come in and do harm.  The there was that horrible episode of Grey's Anatomy that made it even more scary.  Suddenly today, watching that video, I was overcome with such fear for my children and sadness for all of us.  I'm sad this video has to exist.

Being a parent has made me fearful.  I'm not saying I'm paralyzed with fear; I'm saying there's always something nagging at the back of my mind.  The world is scary; there are innumerable things out there to hurt my babies.  Or leave them parent less.  Countless scenarios run through my mind of what would I do if this happened or how would I keep my kids safe in this situation.  

I think I should start keeping my keys on me during the work day so on the chance there is a shooting I could run out a back door and get to my car.  

Or if there was a zombie apocalypse type outbreak how fast could I get home. Could I make it home?  What if I'm separated from my kids in that type of situation?  I'm about to hyperventilate thinking about it now.  

At this point, I am missing the days when thinking about zombies was what induced my panic attack type anxiety.  The real threat of zombies is pretty low.  Random shooting?  The odds seem to get higher every day.  And when I was watching this video at work I hadn't even heard about the Navy Yard shooting yet.  My next patient was telling me about that and had the news on when I walked into her room.  All I could think was for fucks sake, what is wrong with people?

My kids will be in preschool next year and they go to day care part time now.  I'm constantly worried that if something happens it will be my fault because I sent them to daycare and wasn't there to protect them.  They are my babies, my job is to keep them safe.  I'm scared that in the world today, safety is just an illusion.  I feel sick.

Monday, September 9, 2013

Bedtime is for Fighting

Ah, after bath time finds us once again.  Two small boy children running naked through the house proclaiming for me, Dad, and the Dog that they are, indeed, naked babies.  Towels are shed on the floor as they run from bathroom to living room.  What shall we do they telepathically ask each other.  Stand for all the neighborhood to see in our floor to ceiling front window?  Go get in the fridge and open a package of pepper jack and decide it's "on fire?"  Throw a hard plastic object directly at the head of my brother?  All viable answers to the never ending dilemma of what to do.  

Now the magic begins.  How do I get diapers and pajamas on these tasmanian devils masquerading as toddlers?  Threats, bribery, and finally physical force. Why do we repeat the same things every single night?  My boys are smart little boys, surely they know by now that there are some things you do not do.  They've been told these things repeatedly tonight, not to mention all the other nights of their little lives that I have told them the same damn thing only to turn around 2 seconds later to find them standing on top of a Sit & Spin precariously close to the top of the stairs so they can flip the light switch up and down until the light bulb blows.  

After I have asked for the 20th time with absolutely no result my voice gets loud and get that bat shit crazy vibe going.  I am yelling, one or both boys are crying and then someone kicks me in the face when I'm struggling to cover up their privates with a diaper.   After I threaten the kicker, the other boy usually comes up to me of his own volition and says "Me not naughty."  Then lies down to put on his diaper.  Nice mom, terrify your child into compliance.  

I just want bed time to be peaceful.  After the tears, fits and threats we all sit in Mommy's chair and snuggle. Yep, they still love me, even after all that.  They are forgiving little sweethearts when they want to be.  They are absolute terrors at other times.  I love them all the time, but I just want a sign that they are listening.