Impending doom

Ever get a sense that someone is going to pull the rug out from under you? I woke up in this cloud of paranoia and I haven’t been able to shake it. It’s really getting to me. I had to leave a meeting this morning to call the day mommies and make sure the kids were okay. I called and checked in with my folks to make sure all was well on their ranchero. I checked in with Homer to ensure he got to work okay.

Did I forget something major? Is something big about to crumble at work? Will something befall my ailing dad? Hard to tell, but it’s got me in knots. Jaw clenching, brow-furrowing, stomach-churning stress. And the worst part about it is that I can’t do a damn thing about it, because I can’t see where it’s coming from or how. God, this is aggravating.

I can normally rationalize my way out of these things. After all, why worry about I can’t control? I’m a woman of faith who normally can surrender this stuff over. What’s the deal? Why am I obsessing over a make-believe tornado headed for my emotional trailer park?

Who knows. All I’m going to say is that, when it does hit, I now have proof that I saw it coming. Whatever it is.

I guess this is the “fear” in “fear and parenting.”