Fears I Don’t Want To Pass Along to SB

Genetics aside, and sorry kiddo, this is what you get – I hope I don’t pass along any of my fears/neurosis/irrational hang-ups to SB (small boy).  A sampling of things that scare me include:  slugs, earthquakes, flying, Joan Rivers (and her daughter), grasshoppers, flying,  the Tea Party, pit bulls, reality TV about bored housewives/single people in New Jersey, flying, and very bad fake tans. 

Being a mom to a SB, I’ve had to really put the brakes on my reactions to the grossness factor.  Yesterday he picked his nose, held out his finger and said, “mama, you eat it?”  I call this “When the Sharing Lecture Fails”.  We pick up worms on our walks, which is a minor shudder, but when he saw a slug the other day I had to really go in to full blow lying mama mode (or FBLMM), and tell him slugs have sharp teeth and bite, and luckily this one was sleeping.  He can figure out the truth from the BS when he gets older, I guess.

Flying’s another one.  I’m a paranoid/crazy/much rather take a train but they don’t go to Hawaii white knuckler, to say the least.  I hate everything about the process, especially after 9/11.  The second we park at the airport I tend to become crabby and fearful, and now rather than making everyone with me miserable and homicidal, I have to act brave and cheery in front of SB.  It stinks, this being a grown-up thing.

No more glaring at the TSA employee who’s lecturing me about the tiny little thing of hairspray in my purse (because I’m going to style someone to death?), and no more exaggerated eye rolling when I have to take off my flip flops to prove that I’m not concealing a rocket launcher.  Once we actually manage to get our stroller checked at the gate, beg to be seated together, get on the plane, fight over who gets the window seat (not me), hold up the line putting our stuff in the absurdly miniscule overhead compartment while backing up the line like a log jam,  I then have to pretend that flying’s fun and interesting.  In other words, act like a normal, well adjusted person.  Right.

I can’t subtly check the pilot as we walk by the cockpit to make sure he’s sober/didn’t just put his dog to sleep/ is recently divorced and clinically depressed and fantasizing about pointing the plane into a cornfield and ending it all.  I have to actually listento the flight attendant tell me to put my mask on first.  Honey, if it gets to that point, I’ll already have died of fright, and what good is a mask going to do when we hit the cornfield anyway?

So I pretend flying’s fun.  So far SB hasn’t picked up on my phony smile and scary Disney Teen Perky voice, but I think he’s going to catch on soon.  In the meantime, maybe Amtrack’s building a bridge over the Pacific.  You never know.


5 thoughts on “Fears I Don’t Want To Pass Along to SB

  1. It's about time but well worth the wait. What about clowns…I thought you had a Bozo Complex…and BS could be Big Sister you know (and FBLMM could be FaceBook Leads to Mixed Metaphors).I used to be a nervous flyer but the odds just didn't favor it happening and why would it happen to ME instead of, say Sarah Palin or Rush Limbaugh?And lastly, putting on the air mask has nothing to with you, dear. It's to protect the flight attendants from looking at (and hearing) all those faces twisted (and screaming) in shear agony.Sweet dreams…

  2. Snakes, Prius's (Priae?), socialists, snakes, marxists, really large worms…. I'll stop before I get in trouble. Flying? Not so much but I feel the need to say how about, say Harry Reid or Nancy Pelosi? Just equal time from the other side of the NW.My SB is a bit the other way. Slides are scary, steps require hand-holding, slugs are just for looking at… and that's according to him, not me. He does love 'his' jeep though, which I love.Oh, by the way, tea party folk are very nice too, no need to be scared. MJ

  3. Really large worms are up there for sure – and giant Hawaii centipedes too!Jeeps are a big hit around here too – so are tractors, garbage trucks, mail trucks, dump trucks, you get the idea :o)

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