Life keeps marching on.
I've been just SO BUSY lately. I guess I'm always busy, what with all the things I've either a) involved myself in or b) allowed myself to get involved in. I think my body is telling me to slow down, because I've been coming down with severe headaches and stomach cramps which are making me a Grumpy Mummy.
I don't like being a Grumpy Mummy. I want to a Fun Mummy. I want to see Fifi's antics as cute, not obnoxious. I mean, one day I'll miss the fact that she needs cuddles ALL THE TIME, right? When she's a teenager and slamming her door and telling me she hates me and I just don't understand, I'll long for the days when she clambered on top of me, spilling my tea and knocking over my laptop just to make sure every square inch of her body is in contact with mine. Right?
Lolly's been making life a bit hard too. The poor darling is teething, and she's also just at that stage before sitting up (and rolling and probably crawling), and I think she's just fed up. Plus, I think she's going into a separation anxiety phase because no matter how smiley she is, the second I walk out of view, she starts to wail and no one can console her. Scott hates that she won't settle for him, but it really is just a baby/mummy thing. I provide the grub, so of course she wants to know I'm still around!
So, yeah, I've been grumpy.
I've also kind of gone back into panic mode about a few things. Those of you who know me or have been reading my blog long enough know I have two extreme fears: spiders and kidnappers. Well, luckily I've not come into contact with any spiders recently (though with the eve of summer I am destined to start seeing them around again, awful things). And hopefully I've not come into contact with any kidnappers either, but two things have resparked my fear.
The first was being in Arkansas. My grandparents still live out where they've always lived, across the field from our old house. In that old house I developed my fear of kidnappers, but one instance in particular always comes rushing back to me when I drive down those old, deserted roads. I may have told this story on here before, but here it is again. When I was only six or so (or less), I had to take the long way to my grandparents house via the road because there were cows in the field. I hated taking the road, because I was afraid of kidnappers. Well this day, an old, beat-up car with a scraggly-looking man stopped and pulled over and rolled down his window. He called out to me (I was only a few feet from his car) and asked me where the 'gun store' was. Obviously I had no idea, being just a little girl, but I was terrified, yet I didn't want him to see I was terrified. I slowly backed away from his car and shook my head. I don't even know if any words came out as I tried to let him know I didn't know where the gun store was. Once I was far enough away from his car, I quickly took off in the opposite direction of which he was headed. He sat there a moment, then drove off. As soon as he was out of sight, I raced with all my power to the end of the road and down my grandparents gravel drive.
This terrified me as a little girl. Once I was in my teens, I decided I'd overreacted and the guy probably genuinely needed to find the gun store (which, by the way, there IS NO gun store anywhere in that vicinity. There is NOTHING in that vicinity except run-down trailers and meth dealers). Now, though, as an adult, I think exactly the opposite. As I drove down that road again a few weeks ago in America, I was gripped with the reality of what might have happened; basically, that no person in his right mind would stop a little girl on those streets to ask directions to anywhere, let alone a gun store, if he didn't have some kind of not nice intentions. The road to their house upsets me every time I drive it. I lock my doors and watch my girls closely in the rearview mirror. It chills me to the core. Even a month later, I can't get the feeling out of my bones. The What Ifs? What would my life have been if something HAD happened, if I hadn't run, if I weren't already so afraid of strangers? I hate it, and I can't get it out of my mind.
The second thing is a book I've just read. No, it wasn't another kidnapper story, like the one I read when I was pregnant with Fifi (I learned my lesson then about allowing that kind of thing into my mind), but it was about a missing child. The book is called The Search For Haley and tells the story of a little girl who got lost in the wilderness of the Northwest Arkansas Ozark Mountains. (She was found 3 days later alive and well.) I was okay reading it until I got to a part written by Colleen Nick, the mother of Morgan Nick, a little girl who was abducted from a baseball field in Arkansas. I've always gotten chills from the very name of Morgan Nick (again, Arkansas is just hitting too close to home, seeing as it IS home). But to actually read the words she had written, and how she compared Haley's missing to her own daughter's has revived all of this again. I lay in bed last night, tears streaming from my eyes, praying for Colleen, whatever she was feeling at that moment and praying on the fringe for Morgan. And I say praying on the fringe, because I can't even open up my heart and mind to imagine what to pray for. Scott, in his wonderful understanding, went and brought a sleeping Fifi into bed with us so I could have both my girls surrounding me the rest of the night. I prayed until I fell asleep that God would give Colleen a wave of peace and calm in the next moment she would need it and that he would give me that too so I could go on living my life in faith instead of fear.
That's the bottom line. This fear of mine PARALYZES me. It affects my ability to live normally. I don't want to pass this unhealthy fear onto my children, but I also don't want to live in constant fear that something will happen to either of MY children. A healthy, safe lifestyle is one thing, but the every moment looking over my shoulder, the cold sweats, the chills, the fear that grips me is ridiculous.
I don't mean that every moment of my life is spent fearing, but more of my life is spent fearing this than is necessary or right.
And yet, I have an overwhelming desire to hold Fifi close to me right now and apologise for being a cross mummy lately. I love her so much. I love Lolly so much. I want every day to be a day where they feel loved and special. Sadly, these past few days haven't been those kind of days.
Fifi and Lolly, I love you with all my heart. You are mine and your daddy's world. I'm sorry for being grumpy. I love you so much. No matter what you do, we will always be a family, and we'll always stick together. You are loved. You are special. You are mine.