Tonight, in a VERY typical episode in our home, my two girls, age 3 and 6, came running into the house screaming from the backyard.
It was 6 pm, but very dark with this blasted time change so I kinda sorta figured they were spooked about something.
I was right – on their way down the concrete stairs that lead away from the swingset, the girls had convinced themselves (in a matter of 15 seconds no less) that they had seen a set of eyes looking at them from a distance and heard 4 loud booms.
Which led to both girls running down said concrete stairs and my youngest taking a tumble toward the bottom and scratching up her arms.
As they came in, with eyes as wide as someone who had actually seen a ghost, I went through the whole spill about how there aren’t any monsters…monsters are make believe…the only thing to fear is fear itself….yada, yada yada…
We all know this speech right? Our moms told us these things as we worried about monsters under the bed.
And we tell our children the same things, in one form or another.
And even though I hate to see their fear, on the one hand, I slightly chuckle because I realize these fears are unfounded. What they are worried about is NOT real.
But on the other hand, what I don’t tell them, is the stuff that IS real…the stuff that REALLY scares me as your Mom. The things that keep me up all night even though none of them have ever actually happened to my girls.
But the thought of them is enough to torment me.
What really scares me is the stuff of real life –
I worry that my girls won’t fit in at school…or perhaps worse, that they will, for all the wrong reasons.
I worry about the real monsters in the world – those who prey on the young and innocent. Those who kidnap, abuse and take away the very part of what being a child is.
I worry about the news stories of sex trafficking and wonder how I will keep my children safe, especially as they grow older and aren’t under my watchful eye so much.
I worry about lunatics who think it’s okay to take a gun into a school, a movie theater, a park – and openly air their grievances through violence and bloodshed on those least likely to defend themselves.
I worry about boys and sex and pregnancy.
I worry about my girls’ souls and making sure I show them how to live their lives the way God instructs.
I worry about cancer…and diabetes…and illness in all it’s many forms. I wonder how Moms handle such atrocities for their own children and pray and beg and plead with God that I don’t have to learn first hand.
I worry about them finding the right husband…the one who will love them unconditionally and always think they are the most beautiful girl in the world.
I worry about their future – about this world we are preparing and leaving for them. About global warming, pollution and water shortages.
I worry about nitrites and GMOs and organic versus non organic.
I worry about vaccinations – if they are helping or harming.
I worry about health care – if it will even be here in 20 years and if it is, will it be worth having?
I worry about not being here…of something taking me too soon that would keep me from raising the two best things I’ve ever done in this world. And let’s be honest, once you are a mom, isn’t any time “too soon”?
And so I look at my little girls – scared out of their minds when they think they’ve encountered the boogie man. And I hug them tight and assure them they didn’t and that they needn’t worry.
And I hug them just a little tighter because I know the real Boogie Man does exist, in all its varied forms. But they don’t need to know that…Not today.
For now, all they need to know is that they are safe – safe with me. That I will protect them from everything I humanly can and for the rest, I will pray and put it in God’s hands.
Because all too soon, they will learn about these scary things on their own…and I want them to see me not scared.
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