What Are You Afraid Of?

I have a child who's afraid I will die. He tells me this regularly, to the point that I sometimes want to ask him nicely to please not talk so much about mommy dying because, well, it's really not polite to constantly remind someone of their own mortality.

Especially if you believe it to be imminent.

But I don't tell him that. Instead, I tell him that I'm here, and I'm (hopefully) not going anywhere until I'm very old, and then I change the subject to trains, and railroad tracks, and Legos.

Specifically, that he needs to pick up the trains, railroad track, and Legos, before I trip over them and end up dead.

Oh, I'm kidding.

I have another child who's afraid of not making the gymnastics troupe at school. To the point that it's keeping her up at night. Because she can't do a back bend.

I wish I could teach her to do a back bend, but considering I could never even do a cartwheel, I don't think it's a good idea for me to attempt to be her teacher. Especially considering my other child's fears. So I tell her to keep practicing, and remind her that there's always next year, and that she doesn't have to be perfect at everything.

As I think of bribing the gymnastics coach.

Then there's the child who calmly informed me last night, in his sweet two year old voice, that he's afraid "of the stupid dark".

I don't know what to do with all of their fears, so I make promises that I know aren't mine to make, and tell them that it's OK not to succeed at something, and that if weren't for the stupid dark, we wouldn't be able to see the stars that reflect onto our ceiling.

Then I try not to let their fears keep me up at night.

I remind myself that B will will likely outgrow this phase, and that N will either succeed, or learn that it's OK not to, and that O will eventually stop saying the word stupid.

Maybe.

Someday, I hope they won't have these kinds of fears. But if they do, I will do my best to calm them.

I will tell them that moms and dads are always with you, no matter what. And that it's the dark skies that allow us to see the stars at night, and appreciate the sunrise in the morning, and dark clothing that allows us to appear thinner than we actually are.

And that those girls on the gymnastics troupe were bitchy anyway.

Then we'll turn on the flashlights, and hide under the covers, and make shadow puppets in the stupid dark.