I’m wondering if there’s ever a point where you have your kids and you don’t feel like you need to keep one of your six senses on them at all times. Like, surely some parents just….let their kids exist, secure in the faith that their kids will persist in this reality.
Sometimes I feel like a fairy tale goblin is just out of sight and looking for an opportunity to steal one of my children. Real Rumpelstiltskin shit. Real David Bowie from Labyrinth vibes.
(My brain tried to protect me from the memory that his name is Jareth, but alas, here we are with another testament to my inability to do things like schedule a medical procedure, but a slightly damaged reference guide to pop culture).
This anxiety I have about my kids getting into trouble or getting hurt. I share this with others, right? But before having kids I thought of them as the overly anxious ones. I thought of them as helicopters. I thought when it was my turn, I could just be.
And when I test a sense of trust, they do things like draw on the couch or crawl up the stairs. The goblin is real. The goblin is everywhere. How do those mythical parents who just veg out and let their kids do whatever exist? I think they exist. Did I make them up entirely?
We all saw it coming, of course. I have not remade my job searching strategy with the goal of getting out of this alienating employment situation. I have not built an amazing recipe book which will save me thousands of dollars and feed my family nutritiously; deliciously. I have not called my parents, sent a Discord chat to my brother, gotten in touch with old friends.
I spent $300 at Costco and watched a Spider-Man movie.
We all saw it coming.