Little Diddy

I have always been an extremely anxious person.

For example, as a child I used to have a very real crippling fear of going out to eat.  We went out so rarely that it was a real treat when we did and I fear I ruined it for our family every time.  I recall clutching my mom heaving crying begging her not to make me go, then her calmly letting me know that they were going and if it was too much for me they'd get me a babysitter.  Apparently that was even more terrifying than eating out, so I'd go and it'd be ok.  But the worries, oh the worries.

But we all know this about me, it's nothing new.  My own family now surely endures so much from my neurosis.  Ian having to plan any excursion around my phobia of the trains (it's gotten so much better but my, for the first few years I could hardly step foot on them), the girls already learning to shush and listen with their crazy mama to find the source of an odd sound in the house (usually a loud bike going by or the washer emptying of water).  I remember panicking the first time I saw signs that Ainsley was like me, nervous to leave the house, my side, her cozy shelter of home.

But now I see the real beauty of parenting in this way.  The ability to show them what I want them to see, all the while knowing they see the whole me anyways.  To teach them the best way for them, the ways to cope with their own quirks and tricks.

This is all to say that lately I've been worrying lots.  About our house, our inevitable move in a few years, our desire for more children and our nerves at being able to support them in the way we want, about Ian's final PhD months, the excitement and great change that the end of this era will bring, about my race coming up, the first since my junior year of college and my body's ability to not just do it, but win it for myself, because at this moment in my life I so need that boost.

This is also to say that it's gotten so much better.  That as I drove Ian to work last week with the girls in tow I could hardly recall the early morning panics of our newly wedded carpool that used to grip me so hard that I couldn't make it the 5 miles without a rest stop to breathe.  That I've come so far and feel stronger today in a body and mind that have been so stretched and worn by motherhood and time that I hardly recognize myself somedays.  That I love this.  That I actually love my new little eyelines circling my lids, my strong running body that weighs what it did in college, yet looks quite different. That I've stopped worrying about appearing to be so young for what I do because really I'm not anymore.  Heck, I'm the mom with all the snacks and extra wipes at the park, the one with the mary poppins bag of tricks.

But that's not what's important, what is is that I've learned.  Learned to make the best decisions I can in each moment.  Learned to ride the waves rather than fight against the current.  Learned to relax, just enough, to slow down and quiet.

Learned that I'm lucky, quirks and all, and that what we have is something to be cherished.  So I'm cherishing and reveling and hoping you all the same on this glorious end of spring day.