Tag Archives: fears

Change in Tide

2 Oct

His first beach trip was a snooze.

Sleepy Beach Baby

His second was a race and a cling to daddy.

Lola and Papa chasing Nate.

Daddy Dear Life

See-ya later, ocean.

His third and fourth were filled with apprehension and he chose to play beach baseball to help him eventually work up the nerve to try the waves.

That’s far enough.

Beach baseball is a blast. Who needs the waves?

Got brave on the last beach day.

His fifth washed all the worry away. He ventured deeper and deeper until he was even farther than Nia (our brave beach sweetie) and Andrew at one point.

That’s a Nate head way out there.

It was like Nate never had any hesitation about the waves. This time, he wanted to start surfing them before he even reached them.

Skim Boarding Brave

Skim Boarding Brave

I love how he was now so carefree – wanting to go deeper and asking for that skim board to try some sweet moves.

Our little man – conquering fears one beach trip at a time.

Storm Luvah: Whatevah

3 Mar

Me, awake in fear, to Andrew: I hate weather like this.

Andrew, mostly asleep: I love it. (Goes back to sleep.)

Me: That doesn’t help me.

***

I wish I could have a shot glass amount of his (all-natural) no stress attitude.

Seriously though, how do people “love it”? I really think it’s all talk to help them not be afraid. They are trying to convince themselves to not be scared out of their skin each time the ground and house rattles with a larger-than-life, out of our control, boom from nature. I’d rather not poke an angry bear. “Nah, nah, nah! I’m not afraid of you!” BOOM. I feel bad enough downplaying my fear to the kids to help ease their fears. Maybe you storm luvahs are just trying to be the calm, sane one in the room?

If you really do “love storms” and can “sleep so well through them” (like I’ve heard people say), please tell me what specifically it is about the flashes of fierce light, rumbles of sky, and wind that tears trees and houses to pieces that you adore so much. It may help my stress level.

That is, if you can get me out from under the covers.

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Free HBO, a Continental Breakfast and WiFi

24 Jul

What’s not to love? Those are great selling points. HBO has groundbreaking programs, a love me some one serving cereal packages and the internet is like blood to me. But none of that softens the spike I feel in my anxiety level upon entering a hotel.

I’m not sure exactly what made me so hotel-phobic. I used to love staying in them. When I was a middle schooler, my dad, stepmom and stepsister stayed in a new room almost every night for two summers during our road trips across the country. It was an adventure. We visited the most awe-inspiring places and I would often send home/collect postcards of the hotel we stayed at along with the beautiful likes of Yosemite, Yellowstone and Redwood National Parks. I was intrigued by the different places we stayed, not disgusted like I am now.

Now, I can’t relax in them at all. I loathe using the towels, sleeping in the beds, using any part of the bathroom and, of course, walking on the carpet. I even cringe at putting my face directly on the pillowcase.  (How many dirty heads have been on that thing?!)

This latest hotel we stayed at wasn’t even so bad but I still struggled. I just don’t want my freaky fears to rub off on the kids.  (I already ruined them when it comes to bugs.) So far, I think I’ve hidden my revulsion fairly well around them. Nate seemed to love his hotel stay.

He jumped from bed to bed, was pleasantly surprised when he learned they let us use their towels, wanted to cook popcorn in the mini-microwave, felt like king of the world standing on furniture to reach the sink and thoroughly enjoyed his breakfast of bagel, an apple and some waffle.

I wish some of his carefree and happy hotel handling would change my attitude. I’m pretty sure the free HBO won’t do it because I still have to touch the remote to watch it.  (Shiver.)

Paranoid

23 Aug

Call me a narc. Call me a do-gooder. Call me justified. I’ll call myself a pissed off neighbor who is tired of people not respecting other people’s property.

While our next door neighbors are on vacation, we’ve been getting their mail for them.  Friday night, I went out to get it  but I saw two people sitting on the storm drain next to their house.  I just thought it was two of our neighbors talking so I didn’t head for the mailbox.  Instead, I got our garbage cans and brought them around the side of the house.  As I was walking back inside, I noticed they were leaving so I waited for them to walk off and then went for the mail.  I thought it was weird that the two girls cut through our yards, so I let Joey out so he could bark at them. I didn’t think too much of it all until I opened our neighbor’s empty mailbox.

First thought – Andrew must have gotten it already.  No.  I would have known that.

Second thought – They didn’t get any mail.  No.  They always have a ton of mail.

Third thought – What is that paper blowing around on the grass?  Oh, and that ripped up envelope?  CRAP!  I think that’s their mail!

I looked around for more mail and my eyes caught a bunch of white paper stuffed in the storm drain.  I grabbed a piece that’s not too far in and see it is indeed their mail.

I freak out, worried that they stole something with our neighbor’s financial information on it.  I run inside to get Andrew and then run back outside to see if I see the girls anywhere.  Sure enough, I see them down the street behind our house and what do you know – I see them open up another mailbox and look inside!  I yell at them like some tough girl, “I see what you’re doing!  I found the mail!  PUNKS!  I’m calling the police!”  To all of that they reply, “Ma’am?”  I run back inside and cross paths with Andrew who’s armed with a stick of some sort (at that time he did not know they were girls!).  While he took off to chase them, I called the cops.

Andrew didn’t catch up with the girls but the officer did!  The only bad thing about it all – he drove them back to our house so we could identify them!  I say yes, it’s them but I don’t want to press charges, just give back the mail.  “Ma’am, we didn’t take no mail ma’am.”  I say, “Well then, could you give us the mail you found blowing in the wind while you were walking?”  “We don’t have no mail ma’am.”

Turns out they live either in our neighborhood or close to us and they are 23 and 20 years old!  (Here I thought they were just kids being kids.)  The 23 year old actually even had a warrant out for her arrest!  (Not sure for what.) Based off what we saw and another neighbor who saw them throw down two pieces of mail (another neighbor’s catalog credit card statement and our neighbor’s entire phone bill), they handcuffed the girls and took them away.

I’m just so freakin’ paranoid right now. They know where we live.  They know we’re the ones who reported them.  What if they retaliate? Nia and Nate’s rooms are in the front of the house.  I’m so scared they, or someone they know, will do something that could hurt our sweeties as they sleep all tucked in nice and cozy.  I want to move!  I can totally see why people don’t report crime.  The cop even asked if we owned a gun and told us to get one!  That’s comforting!

This sucks!  All we can do is move Nia’s bed away from the outside wall and pray the criminals aren’t crazy enough to want to hurt someone.

Did we do the right thing?  What about the smart thing?  What would you have done?  Am I overreacting yet again?  (Please don’t answer unless you’re going to help make me feel better!  HA!)
 

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