I worry a lot. Always have. about everything. Just an anxious person I guess. I used to stay awake in college until my best friend came home (if she went out and I didn't). I worry about family and friends and if I have enough food for dinner. I worry when J leaves early for work or to go running that he makes it to the car safely or that he makes it around the park and back. I worry that a piece of orange that I gave W yesterday is stuck in his lungs. I read last night that you shouldn't give them citrus fruit because it's stringy and that what you think may just be a cough may really be part of the fruit stuck in his lungs. I worry.
I never knew what worrying was until I had W. Now I realize that most of the things I worried about before were not really necessary things to worry about. and I realize that I will be worrying the rest of my life. As you get older, you think you should get wiser. But my list of people to worry about only keeps growing. My husband, my baby are now added to the mix. My brother's wife, my in-laws. It would be fun to have a lot of kids but I don't think I could handle the worrying. Because then where does it stop. eventually I'll have to add their wives/husbands and grandchildren to the mix. I got this from my mom. She never went to sleep until we came home at night. In N.O. it makes sense. She wouldn't let us go to a friend's house if they had the sniffles. The worst part of it all is is that as hard as I try not to, I am sure I will pass this OCD of worrying on to my kids. and the cycle will start all over again.
I watch tv dramas now and cry when a child is sad or sick. I cry for the baby and I cry for the parents and the way that I imagine they feel. I worry that I am not a good enough mom for W who deserves the best of everything.
Am I crazy? I am worried that I probably am.