Feartime

Feartime happens at 2:45 AM. I wake up to hear the poor baby sadly calling. I rush to see him, happy to hold him in my arms. ( he has recently moved to his own room) As we rock and nurse, my brain kicks into gear. The wind is blowing, will it blow the house down? (should I wake Gabe up?) The is hail coming down is there going to be a tornado? Should I go downstairs with the baby to the bathtub? (should I wake Gabe up?) and then inevitably...Are kidnappers trying to get in the house!!!!??? Yesterday a book salesmen came by. He wanted to know if Emory had his own room. IS HE SCOPING THE HOUSE?? I panic. (Should I wake Gabe up??) I go to the living room to check the security system. I invented a security system that involves several musical toys placed seemingly at random but actually with careful thought around the entrances of the room, below windows, and in the hallways. ( Should I get a real security system?) Tonight the risk of kidnappers is too high. The risk to the baby isn't worth it (even though he seems perfectly satisfied) I pick up his heavy sleepiness bring him back to bed (shhh...don't wake up Gabe) I lie holding my sleeping baby and carefully reviewing the quickest ways out of the house in case of fire, where the cell phone is and how to dial 911, Did I turn the stove off? 4 Am ...the fears subside, I gratefully slip back into a panic dream about teaching. This morning I tiredly realize that there is such a thing as too much imagination.

Gabe slept safely...this time.