Anxiety

I should get caught up on the laundry. The laundry is in the basement. The basement is probably filled with asbestos. Doing laundry could expose me to asbestos. Asbestos could kill me. I probably won’t get caught up on the laundry.

Lexi will be driving in three years. I’ll be a mom with a kid who’s old enough to drive. Only old people have kids who drive. Old people die. I’m going to die. Also, I think I we’re out of peanut butter.

For the past couple of weeks I’ve been waking up early in the morning, before Whitney makes her way into our room. I lay very still in bed, breathe in the quiet, and stare out the span of windows in our bedroom which open up to the tree tops. I’m careful not to move a limb or turn my head, since I’m pretty sure toddlers have a heightened sensitivity to vibrations caused by the slightest movements. Waking-up without the "I NEED! I NEED!" alarm of angry, wet, hungry children is a ...Continue Reading »