But then there are the days when the kids tell me they think I’m great (and some days, sadly, this has to do with having ice cream) and it just blows me away. And I think Am I really doing an okay job here, or do they just not know any better….? No wonder parents have to be sleep-deprived. I’d implode from all the worrying if I got enough sleep to remember to do it all.
Mostly, it seems, I have to put on my WWND hat and try to distance myself a little bit and ask myself whether Nana would say I’m doing an all right job of it. And sometimes, when I’m really in a quandary, I have to call my Dad and ask him what HE thinks. Of course, then I wonder Shouldn’t I be able to do this without running to my parents….?
And wow, how solipsistic can one person be, I bet you’re wondering… Sorry. It’s just that it’s P2’s first day of day camp and he was a wee bit anxious when I dropped him off and although I hugged him and told him to have a great day and pretended like Mommy wasn’t worried about him AT ALL, that was totally for show. I’m skating the thin ice of a panic attack wondering if he’s okay. Maybe Xanax parenting would be worth looking into….
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