*disclaimer* This is a deep one folks…

One of the things I sometimes forget about myself, probably because I don’t like to recognize how looney I am, is my fear of kidnapping. You heard me right… kidnapping.

My mom used to take me to the Goodwill store less than a mile from where Ilene Misheloff was taken on her way home from an ice rink I used to skate at. I was 8 when 7-year old Amber Schwartz-Garcia was kidnapped while jumping rope in her front yard, approximately 30 miles from where I was jumping rope in mine.  I was the same age as Polly Klass when she was abducted from her bedroom in a town about 60 miles from my home. I started my first nanny gig when a pregnant Laci Peterson was killed by her lunatic husband (not that I have ANY fear of that happening to me!).

As a Christian, I know we live in a broken world. It’s unfortunate that the knowledge of that doesn’t make it easier to be a parent!

When I was pregnant with my Big, I revealed to my Hubby that I hated getting gas because I was afraid someone would see my big belly and be enticed to steal me for the child in my body. I will never forget him telling me “You can feel that way. Just don’t scare the crap out of our kid!”.

Well, now my Big is of an age that she meets strangers but doesn’t quite know the boundary between friend and foe (though I’m not saying she has met any “foes”.) She makes friends easily, and feels safe in her home, which, as a mother, I love. However, I struggle with teaching her boundaries and safety without “scaring the crap out of her”!

Today, Big asks me to open her blinds and window so she can “enjoy the birds chirping and the beeeautiful day outside” during her quiet time. Who could say “no” to that? I obliged and took off to take a shower, in a constant attempt to reset my bad attitude I’ve been battling all day. As I’m showering, I start to let my mind wander… I hear a thud. I hear a voice. Of course, my mind’s eye sees some monster taking advantage of the kindness of my Big. My heart tells me to Have Faith.

Moments later, my Big opens the bathroom door to tell me there IS a monster in her room…

A Fly.

My Big could play with baby bumblebees all day long, but a fly? Forget it. Tears and hysterics ensue.

Seeing as how I have shampoo in my hair, I tell her I will be out “in a minute” to help her. Then I remembered I bought her a fly swatter of her very own, which she took to sleeping with during high fly season. She nods at me and turns to leave, but I can see she’s still terrified.

But, I’m a little less terrified knowing the sounds and voices I heard were not of some monster talking to my Big. I go about rinsing the soap from my hair. It’s when I hear another great *THUMP* and a couple more smaller *thuds* that I decide rinsing can wait, and I trod off down the hall, dripping, to make sure Big is a-ok.

I see her escape back into her room as I’m turning the corner. I pop my head in to make sure things are all good. She looks up at me and smiles.

“I had to rinse the fly off, Mommy”.

She had gotten it. She had conquered it. She had fought her monster and came out victorious.

I’m still working on mine, but this helped.


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