Saturday, August 3, 2013

This thing called love lerve leeerve. Shooby dooby doo wap!

Fantastical, wonderful, anxiety inducing parental love. There has yet to be anything more gratifying to the soul. I have willingly and gladly given up freedoms and (currently several) career options. I'm addicted and so is she.

It's overwhelming in all aspects.
I receive bursts of comfort, joy and love from this child. It is extremely satisfying. There is also a sickening and upsetting worry that I had never understood before now. I can see how a person can get carried away with this fear when watching the news.

I watched a 16:9 piece last night on Tori Stafford. It happened in 2009 and I remember feeling upset and sad by it. Watching it again was a whole new experience. I won't go into too much detail because it really must be experienced and those with children already know. I'm not sure if a description of parental anxiety would have made me understand pre-baby.

This story made me want to lock that baby in my house or chain gang her to my person.

Oh boy, this is not who I am. I still think children should have the neighbourhood freedoms they used to, the ones that I had.

So I fear this parenting thing is going to take a lot of deep breaths, stranger danger prep courses, and keeping my fretting to myself.

Bah! Ugh! Gah!

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